The Hero of Ferelden
by Sisimka
Summary: The final battle is just the beginning of this story which will follow Aedan afterwards as he rebuilds the wardens and considers his decision to participate in Morrigan's ritual. Rated M for: Suggestive themes Romance Aedan/Leliana and violence.
1. Chapter 1

_First, I'd like to thank Bioware for creating this wonderful game that has so sparked our imaginations. Second, I'd like to thank them for letting us play in their sandbox. I've not written fan fiction before, but I love all my characters and this way I can keep them 'alive' until their next adventure._

_The final battle is just the beginning of my story. I will follow Aedan along afterwards as he rebuilds the wardens and considers his decision to participate in Morrigan's ritual. This story will include Aedan's romance with Leliana, will contain plot spoilers from the game, and is rated M for violence and suggestive themes._

_Our starting point is the arch demon is down and it's time to decide who will take the final blow:_

* * *

**The Arch Demon**

Alistair started toward the downed dragon, dropping his shield to grip his sword in both hands. Aedan must have heard the clatter of his shield hitting stone because looked up from tending Sten's wound and froze. Leaping to his feet, he whirled, two steps bringing him to Alistair's side. He reached out, grabbing his shoulder, yelling as he did so, "Alistair, no!"

Alistair turned to look at him, tearing his eyes away from the arch demon with a great effort. His gaze focused on Aedan then and he shook his head as if to clear it. Aedan's hands had reached for the sword, wrapping his fingers about his upon the hilt. Aedan sank to his knees before him and looked up, his blue eyes wide, full of fear and despair.

"As commander of your army, this is my duty to you. Let me be the one…for Ferelden," Aedan said, his voice hoarse from battle, cracking as he faltered over his words. "For you, my King…my Brother,"

Alistair blinked, his eyes filling with tears and for a moment his grip on the blade slipped, then strengthened. "Isn't this what a King would do for his people? End the Blight in a single stroke?"

"A King must rule, and to rule, he must live..." Aedan pleaded. He bowed his head over their interlocked hands, "Command me, please..." he breathed.

Alistair stood there a moment longer, eyes closed, mind reeling. This mere year had brought more pain, yet more joy than he had ever known. How could he command his dearest friend, the man who had followed him loyally to the brink of death and back to die for him? Aedan had believed in him when others would not. This man had made him King!

He heard a shout and opening his eyes caught a glimpse of mage fire as more darkspawn began to pour out onto the top of the tower from below. This had to end, now.

He pulled Aedan to his feet and the warrior gasped, tightening his grip on Alistair's hands. Aedan then set his feet, ready to wrest the weapon from his hands and looked up. Alistair grimaced through his tears as he loosed his fingers. He croaked "Aedan…" and stopped.

"My Brother…my friend," he drew himself up, finally letting go of the sword, "As I command, you shall have the honour of this final blow." He took a deep breath and raised his voice, "End this Blight…for Ferelden, for the Grey Wardens!"

Aedan straightened and resettled his grip on the sword. He stepped back and nodded his head in a final bow, before looking up and meeting Alistair's eyes. "Take care of Leliana for me," he whispered, turning and running toward the dragon.

Alistair had a single moment to watch the tall warrior lift the sword high above his head, roaring, and run toward the arch demon, before he felt a blow upon his own shoulder. Stepping back, his armour-plated elbow driving into the gut of the genlock behind him, he stooped forward to pick up his shield, one foot taking a light step forward, allowing him to spin, slamming the shield into the face of that same genlock, downing it. Stepping over the body, he picked the axe from its lifeless fingers and swung at the next darkspawn bearing down upon him.

--=0=--

Aedan had run directly at the arch demon, sword raising sparks off the scales of the dragon's neck as the arch demon attempted to raise its large head for one final roar. Blood began to fly behind the trail as the sharp dragonbone blade at last encountered the relative softness beneath the throat. Aedan drew the sword to the side and up with a spray of blood that hissed and steamed as it hit his armour, raising welts upon his exposed skin.

As the great head dropped once more Aedan again took the hilt with both hands and lifting the sword above his head, he closed his eyes, his lips forming a single word, "Maker", before thrusting down with all his strength, sending the tip of the sword between the dragon's eyes, through the head, every crunch of bone and cartilage rippling up his arms until the shuddering jolt that told him the tip had driven into the stone below. He was engulfed in light.

The light seared like holy fire and Aedan felt as if it were flaying the very skin from his bones. He yelled with the pain of it, and though every instinct told him to let go of the blade, he held on. The light was too bright and he closed his eyes, but instead of darkness his life was there, rolling backwards before him. From the battle to the top of the tower all the way back down to the gathering at the gates. He was able to call the face of each companion before him.

Alistair! The man had become his truest friend when Howe had conspired to take everything he held dear. His king and his Brother-in-Arms, Alistair would be a great and fair ruler, a man whose faith and loyalty had never wavered, even when the odds were against them. Leliana, his light and his heart, she had crept inside him unawares, capturing first his interest, then his love. Feeling his heart would break he instead turned his thoughts to Sten, the proud Qunari warrior whom he had redeemed and restored. Wynne, the ever wise and gentle Wynne who had always been there to listen when he'd felt small beneath the weight of his burdens. She'd set him back on his feet more times than he could count, sometimes with hard words, but always with patience.

Zevran, the cocky, self assured assassin had become a true ally, an asset and a friend. Shale, the unfathomable golem was one of his short life's biggest surprises. Oghren would be alright, the gruff dwarf had a way of looking at life Aedan could only envy. Morrigan…Morrigan, the maleficar who had promised him Alistair would not die. Had she left already, Aedan's babe quickening within her womb, ready to receive this demon's soul? Had he made the right choice? But if completing the abhorrent ritual would save the king he had spent a year driving toward the throne, then he could accept his fate. It was supposed to save his life also, but this light, this pain…this felt like dying.

The images before his closed eyes began to blur and fade, moving faster so as he could barely pick out faces and memories until the final frame. His family, his father, mother, Brother and his wife, their child were arrayed before him as they had been that night, the night of Howe's treachery. His heart stopped and his fingers fell from the blade. Before he could fall there was a loud clap like thunder and his body was thrown from the head of the arch demon, flying up before sailing down to skid across the stone floor.

--=0=--

For what felt like an eternity the battle raged about Alistair, as thick and furious as before and he lost sight of Wynne and Sten in the rush. What he mistook for mage lightening flared so suddenly he had to squint for fear of losing his sight. Shading his eyes, he dared a glance at the source and beheld Aedan standing at the head of the arch demon, both hands upon the sword, which was thrust to the hilt through the dragon's head, fairly pinning it to the ground.

The thunderous noise rang in the eardrums of the companions. They each had to turn their gaze away from the sight of Aedan as the light surrounding him became bright enough to eclipse their vision. The surrounding darkspawn, standing as transfixed as they, howled as the light melted their eyes and burnt the flesh from their bodies. Limbs, weapons and mismatched armour all dropped to the ground with muted thumps and clangs, joining the wave of sound gathering toward a crescendo until that deafening thunder that had stunned them all.

The companions found themselves lifted upon that wave of sound and air and thrown clear of the arch demon. Alistair witnessed Aedan's body also being thrown away, limp and lifeless, coming to rest against a low stone wall. He attempted to gain his feet then simply crawled toward his friend, having to shield his eyes once again as the brightness and the thunder gathered to an almighty roar. The column of light that had transfixed Aedan now reached the sky and had spread in a nimbus below the swirling clouds. Alistair's ears were ringing and just as he steadied himself against the buffeting wind it died down and he fell to Aedan's side.

Suddenly Wynne and Sten were there also, looking disheveled and bleeding from many wounds of their own, but alive. Wynne immediately began chanting, her hands hovering over Aedan, her eyes closed against her own weariness. She swayed and Sten caught her as she fell forward. She opened her eyes, tears rolling down a face stained by battle and she looked at Alistair, a sob catching in her throat.

"He's there," she whispered, "I can feel him, but only just. I have not the strength remaining…I'm sorry." She broke off, wrapping her arms about her shoulders to hug herself, rocking forward again, "Oh, Aedan I'm so sorry."

Alistair put his arms beneath Aedan's ribs and tried to lift him, grunting in pain as the man's armour thumped against his bruised shoulder. His burden was lifted and he looked up to see Sten take Aedan from him, cradling the man in his arms as if he were a mere boy, conferring a gentleness Alistair would not have suspected.

"Thank you Sten, I would not leave him here…with this…" he cast a glance at the body of the arch demon. Alistair bowed his head. He should tell Wynne that there was nothing she could do, that no power could heal Aedan. He didn't know if she could live with the guilt of thinking she might have saved him, he could ease her conscience with the knowledge he possessed – that Aedan had taken the arch demon's life knowing it would also take his own. The secrets of the Grey Wardens were a cruel knowledge to possess.

Picking their way through the gruesome remains of darkspawn, the companions made their way to the doors leading down. It felt like the longest walk of Alistair's life. The darkspawn beneath the tower roof had not disintegrated like those above, their bodies remained where they'd been cut down. Every so often a shadow moved and a footstep echoed, but they were not challenged. The darkspawn were broken, mindless and fleeing. As they came down the stairs to the first floor they met with the remains of the Legion of the Dead. The hardy dwarves, still numerous, were heavily stained with darkspawn blood. A commotion near the entrance died down as the soldiers quickly dispatched two more of the fleeing darkspawn and the way cleared. As one, the dwarves bowed their heads, not to Alistair, but to the man lying in Sten's arms, his distinctive Warden Commander Armour, battered as it was, marking him clearly as Aedan.

Alistair approached Kardol and they exchanged a few quiet words, Kardol raising his head to two nearby legion and calling, "a cart, for the Warden, be quick about it." His voice was gruff with concealed emotion. He turned back to Alistair, "So it's done."

Alistair could only nod at that point, not trusting himself to speak. A cart had been rounded up, but no animals were found. The dwarves lent themselves to the task. Sten laid Aedan into the back before helping a protesting Wynne up to kneel beside him. She sank wearily down, picking up Aedan's lifeless hands in her own, and taking up a constant low murmuring that near broke Alistair's heart. He bit his lips together, put his head down and walked on beside their odd procession – the Dwarves, the few remaining mages, the companions.

Denerim, jewel of Ferelden, lay about him in ruins. He could barely recognise the streets and they lost their way more than once. They found the rest of Arl Eammon's men before the river. Thankfully this bridge, unlike the one the arch demon had smashed behind the elvenage still stood. As they neared the centre of the bridge, Alistair looked up and forward, his view of the city gates now unobstructed before him. He could see many elves had survived to hold the gates and recognized Oghren's bright red hair among them as he shouted orders to the remaining companions. A crowd surged out to overtake a band of fleeing darkspawn, then looked up to see their king step down off the near side of the bridge. A cheer was taken up that turned into a full throated roar that nearly rivaled the thunderclap of the arch demon's demise as more and more of Ferelden's armies saw Alistair approach.

He held up his hands, a wave and a gesture of acceptance, his face grim and tired. There was so much that needed to be said to these good people and so much he could never tell. He dropped his arms and his head, as if bowing and the crowd fell silent before him. The only sound was the wheels of the cart as the dwarves finally pulled it down off the bridge and laid it to rest, then all was quiet. He looked up, his eyes catching those of Oghren, Shale and Zevran as they maneuvered forward through the crowd. There was a question in each of their faces and he gave a slight shake of his head, not realising that they had assumed Wynne had also fallen, she was hidden in the cart with Aedan.

Clearing his throat, he shored up his last reserves of strength and called to the crowd, "The arch demon is slain! The blight is ended!" Making sure his gaze sought that of as many of the folk gathered below him as possible, he added, "It is thanks to you, Ferelden, for allying in order to rid this country of the darkspawn. I owe you my gratitude. But the sacrifice of a single man guaranteed this victory and I would have it known from this day forward that Aedan Cousland, commander of my armies, my fellow Grey Warden…my friend, shall be known as the Hero of Ferelden!" His voice cracked on those last words, but none heard it as the cheering swelled up again. Finally Alistair's eyes found Leliana in the crowd, she had been crouched next to Aedan's mabari, her arms wrapped about the dog as if for support. At his last words, she looked up too, tried to stand, and fainted.


	2. Chapter 2

The Spark

Aedan felt time stop. Simultaneously, his body was flying backwards, hurled away from the arch demon, and upwards at a terrible pace, following the column of light toward the clouds. He was being torn apart, a furious wind whipping his yells away from his lips, as it bore him ever upwards and backwards at the same time. The brilliance had spread beneath the clouds into a white, radiant circle of light which grew wider as he approached. The higher he flew, the lighter his body became. Then he could no longer feel it at all and a sense of curious detachment settled over him. He barely noticed the cold stone as it caught and slapped the back of his helm with a loud clang at the precise moment he also crested the wind that lifted him through the circle of light and into the clouds. Time paused again, briefly, and then he began the awful descent back to the rooftop. However there was no rushing this time, it was a slow and graceful fall. It seemed he met his own howling on the way down as echoes of sound curled inside his ears.

As he fell back toward the top of the tower, Aedan saw himself lying on the stone floor. He would not have recognised the limp and seemingly lifeless form as himself if not for the armour. His exposed skin was all red, as if burnt, and covered in welts. His helm had come off and had rolled a short distance and his eyes were closed. Wynne crouched over his body and she was rocking and crying, and talking to Alistair. He couldn't hear what they were saying. He called out to them, but another of his own yells came back to fill his ears and all he heard was the sound of his own pain and anguish.

He drifted past the small group and to the edge of the tower now and it was when he reached for the stone balustrade that he noticed he had no hands, no body! He looked again to the limp form lying beneath his three companions and tried to shout again only to find a terrible absence of sound.

The pace of his fall began to increase and it became obvious he was not merely falling down. There was a purpose to his descent. He felt himself lifted by a wind and moved out from the shadow of the tower. His…self…was whisked over rooftops and through crumbled and deserted alleyways, in some cases flying through broken windows and ducking beneath listing beams and columns. He was searching for something. The ducking and weaving became dizzying, but there, he felt a definite tug and pull, then again. A figure in a dark, hooded robe was slipping through a breach in the city wall not far from the gates. Despite the shadows of the walls and the dark cloth of the robe, the figure shone like a beacon and he felt himself pulled toward it so quickly he instinctively feared the pain of impact.

Just then, as Aedan mentally braced himself for the collision, the hooded person seemed to sense him and turned. The radiance of the clouds caught her face beneath the shadow of the cloak. Morrigan! He willed another useless bellow and closed his non-existent eyes, bracing all he'd left on the rooftop for an impact that never happened. He bounced. The wisp of air, the spark of life he had followed down from the clouds moved effortlessly into Morrigan, leaving him stranded outside, breathless and vague.

He opened his eyes.

--=0=--

Wynne found the constancy of her own chanting comforting. She was exhausted and the only action sustaining her was the constant trickle of mana she hoarded and released into Aedan. She gripped his cool hands tightly, closing her eyes against the tortured appearance of his skin. Instinctively relaxing her hold on his poor hands, she again took up her chant. She heard a breath and felt his chest rise beneath their clasped fingers and opened her eyes. Aedan was looking at her…no…his eyes were open, but it didn't seem he could see her.

"Aedan?" she whispered.

His blue eyes remained unchanged, fixed, focused, but not on her. It was if he looked right through her. She shivered, and leaned back on her heels, letting go of his hand. Grasping the side of the cart she unsteadily pulled herself up, wincing as blood flow was restored to her lower limbs. Kardol was standing just to the side of the cart and she beckoned him quickly with her free hand.

"Get Alistair, quickly, Aedan is awake!"

She spied another of the remaining circle mages sitting below the bridge. His eyes were closed and his head rested against the stone, his face loose and open in a manner she recognised. He was meditating, restoring his mana reserves, something she dearly would like to have done. But she couldn't help feeling her constant small trickle of power had sustained Aedan this far. The spark she'd felt atop the tower hadn't died, but simply remained, frustratingly close, yet out of reach. Now his eyes were open, only time would tell if this was good or bad.

Feeling light-headed Wynne slowly lowered herself to the cart bed once more, taking Aedan's hands again in her own and indulging herself for a brief moment – head dropping back against the wooden sides, eyes closing as she sought to restore herself. She called gently to the spirit within her and felt an overwhelming wave of despair when it failed to answer. It was still there, of that she had no doubt, she was still breathing, wasn't she? But she had depleted it terribly and it was time to rest. A rising murmur approaching the cart caused her to open her eyes once again. She quickly checked on Aedan, there was no change. He was breathing so slowly, so lightly, his chest hardly moving at all. His eyes were still open, still fixed, still sightless.

Leliana, Alistair and First Enchanter Irving approached. Irving lived! Wynne felt light-headed again with relief that the tough First Enchanter was still here to lead the circle. He was followed by two more remaining circle mages. Wynne idly wondered how many mages had survived their ordeal with the Arch Demon – rebuilding the circle was going to be challenge enough…

Alistair stepped forward to take Wynne's hands briefly in his own, before turning and handing Leliana up into the cart. The girl was a mess, covered in darkspawn blood and no doubt more than a little of her own from the many nicks and cuts to her bare arms and a gash that had penetrated one leather capped shoulder. Her face was smudged with soot, blood and tears and she hiccupped over a quiet sob as she knelt beside Aedan, cupping his face gently in her hands.

Wynne could hear Leliana whispering softly to Aedan as she indicated that Alistair should help her down. She wanted to consult with Irving and these two mages. Alistair stepped into their circle and she nodded her head briefly, allowing that he should listen in. She addressed the First Enchanter.

"He has not stirred since we left the tower and his skin is badly burned, but he is still there, I can feel the spark of life in him. I have been feeding small trickles of healing power to him, as I can marshal the reserves of mana, I can only hope this has helped sustain him. His eyes just opened and he breathes, but he does not appear to see." Her voice veered up dangerously here, nearing a wail. Wynne swallowed, pulling herself under control and continued, addressing the two circle mages now "Do either of you have the mana to attempt more?"

Alistair's face, always so expressive, immediately radiated a tired relief, "You mean he is alive?"

Wynne nodded, pausing a moment before replying carefully, "It seems that way."

One of the circle mages had moved to the back of the cart and was waiting respectfully for Leliana to relinquish her hold on Aedan's prone form. Wynne touched Alistair's shoulder briefly before turning back to the cart.

"Leliana," she called softly, "Leliana, child, we have another mage here who may be able to assist."

Between them Wynne and Alistair managed to coax Leliana down from the cart as the mage slipped up the other side and knelt beside Aedan. He was a curious looking fellow, his face vaguely familiar but not well known to Wynne. She'd been gone from the tower a long time.

"That is Taren," Irving provided quietly, "He passed the harrowing only two months ago, but already his strength in healing is strong. He is the only mage who has extensively studied the creation school of magic in many years."

Wynne nodded her approval and watched as Taren bowed his head and began moving his hands in flat circular motions over Aedan. It seemed only a matter of mere seconds before Aedan began to shake, to convulse almost, then he sat up, nearly bowling Taren aside and called out, "Morrigan, don't go!"


	3. Chapter 3

The Dreams

Aedan dreamed:

He was traveling just to the south of the West Road, skirting the Brecilian Forest. His step was light, lively even and his heart buoyed with his renewed solitude. The sun shone on his uplifted face and the breeze stirred the fringe of hair across his forehead. It was blessedly quiet that first morning and the absence of the clang and roar of battle echoed loudly in his ears until he again became accustomed to the call of bird song and twitch and rustle of wild creatures retreating into the brush.

He was in a dark, dark place and there was no sound, no touch, no sensation at all. He wanted to cry out, but knew it to be useless, he no longer had a body, no way to make sound.

There was a face, a face he should recognise, with cerulean blue eyes, the colour of the ocean. Her skin was radiant, near untouched by time, but for a few fine lines about the eyes and a touch of sun lending a slight blush to the cheeks and nose. Her hair was like sunset, shining gold and red, setting off the deep blue of those wide eyes, the rose red of her sweet, full lips. He felt his fear subside, he knew this face, loved this face.

Aedan was in the dark place again. But it was warm now and there was a sound, faint but constant, a rhythmic pulse that eased his apprehension. He still had no body.

He was traveling again. He wasn't enjoying his own company as much as he had. He missed their voices, the companions, even that nagging old mage. The campfire was too quiet at night and the sounds of forest were too loud. He was lonely.

Another face, this time well lined with age, a different set of blue eyes. White hair pulled back tightly and skin soft and white. He knew this face, Wynne. He tried to talk to her and heard a croaking sound.

Then he was alone again, and cold. His travels had taken him once more to the foothills of the Frostback Mountains and he gazed up at their indomitable peaks, shading his eyes from the harsh slant of the sun. His throat hurt and he was so thirsty. He could hear water trickling not far off and walked toward the sound. He knelt down by a clear pool of water to take a drink, wash his face and saw not his own reflection, but that of Morrigan. She hissed.

"Go back, you fool! I warned you not to follow me…"

She slapped her hands into the water, destroying her reflection and Aedan felt himself pushed away from his body, her body again, into the dark place. The warmth, the slow pulse was still there, but there was another sound now, Morrigan's voice, quiet, muffled, but undeniably angry.

"Not there either, leave me be!"

With another push he was gone again only this time he felt he was falling. He had a second to fear he was falling from the clouds all over again before he landed with a soft thump. He coughed and gasped for air, opening his eyes. He could see a bed canopy above him. He lifted his hands and knew simple joy as he felt them rise and saw them in front of his eyes. He was here, he was in his body, his own body. His fingers had a slightly pink tinge to them and as he touched them to his cheeks, he felt a small tingle of pain. He remembered the light then, the holy fire, his skin burning and the pain…the incredible pain. Yet he lived, he lived! Bracing his elbows at his sides he attempted to push himself upright, eager to check if the rest of him was where it should be.

Aedan could not believe how much effort it cost him to lever himself into a sitting position. He'd had a fever once as a child and remembered well the weakness he'd struggled with afterwards. This was worse. Using his elbows once more to push the pillows into a lumpy wedge behind his shoulders he attempted to kick the bedclothes aside, nearly whimpering with relief as he saw legs moving beneath the blanket, responding to his whim. He was whole. He closed his eyes, and coughed again, his throat dry and hoarse. A cool hand came to rest upon his forehead and he looked up in panic, disoriented, knowing the hand was not his own. Wynne was standing there, her face creased into a frown, even as smile hovered at the corners of her mouth.

"You are finally awake, I see, and already trying to get up." She chuckled softly, the cool hand moving to his shoulder to settle him as she deftly rearranged the pillows beneath him. She poured some water into a cup and set it to his lips, helping him tip his head forward to drink. "Slowly," she murmured.

He drank gratefully, feeling the wetness ease his throat. A droplet trickled over his chin and down his neck and he shivered as it caused that same delicate pain he'd felt in his fingers before. Wynne blotted his neck carefully with a soft cloth before continuing with her quiet words.

"You gave us all quite a scare. Don't fuss at your skin, it's healing very nicely. You have Taren to thank for that, he's a talented healer. Tell me, what do you remember?"

Aedan thought a moment and winced as a jumble of memories all clamoured for attention at the same time. "Too much," he whispered. His voice was hoarse and unfamiliar. He suddenly felt very weary, and panic gripped him. He reached for Wynne's arm and said, "No more dreams, please, I don't want to go back." Darkness was edging in around his vision and Wynne's face blurred as his eyes filled with tears. His eyelids were too heavy and he was falling again.

He saw his family and his heart lifted with joy to see his father, mother and brother again. It was Fergus' wedding day and the four of them were seated in the study just behind the library, enjoying a quiet moment before the day's festivities took over. They had been laughing over something Fergus had said and Aedan saw his father was gazing adoringly at his mother.

It was another day and he was still with his family. He and Fergus were practicing sword play in the courtyard. The sun was bright and warm and they both had a fine sheen of sweat along their arms and faces. He felt good, fit, and full of energy and enjoyed the easy strength he felt in his limbs as he danced beyond the reach of Fergus sword, spinning lightly away and around to tap his brother lightly on the back of his shoulder with one of his own blades.

Yet another day and this time he was alone, no, not alone, he was watching someone. It was the girl he'd seen before, the one whose cerulean eyes and sunset hair had so stirred his heart. He was reclined on the bank of a river, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the quiet of a rare day of rest. He remembered they'd been traveling hard, and everyone had been exhausted when they'd come across this idyllic spot of forest. There was a clearing in the tall trees, wide enough to set a decent camp. A short distance away had been this small river, wide, yet shallow enough to bathe in safely, and dotted with numerous coves and beaches, so they'd all be able to secure themselves a quiet spot to bathe, rinse out their clothes. Time they'd all needed, desperately.

The girl was splashing noisily about in the water and she was talking to someone, someone she called Jack. His mabari! The dog's head splashed out of the water then and she giggled with delight, sending another wave cascading toward the dog. Jack barked and turned, paddling toward the shore and the girl slipped back down into the water to swim after him, her smooth arms stroking confidently back across the river. She came to the shallower water and began to walk up the bank, shaking water droplets from her hair as she did so. He saw that she was dressed in nothing but her undergarments and carried herself with the unaffected air of someone who didn't mind the feel of the air on her bare skin, and cared not that she was so exposed. More than Aedan's heart stirred as his eyes roamed from her beautiful face, down her neck, her scantily covered breasts, her flat stomach and the smooth curve of her hips. Those long, long legs. She looked up and saw him watching her and she laughed, the sound musical.

"I can see someone is awake," she said, her tone teasing and suggestive, and at the sound of her voice, he knew her. It was Leliana. He smiled and said her name and was surprised to find his voice hoarse and his throat sore, as if he'd not just lolled about on a beach all afternoon.

Aedan opened his eyes again, confused as he'd thought they were already open, a little miffed as he'd been enjoying the view. He sighed with relief when she was still there, though she looked tired and her eyes were darker, sad. But his smile was echoed by hers as he said her name once again, "Leliana."

He reached for her and she lay down beside him, carefully arranging herself so as not to bump his healing skin. Aedan wrapped his arms tightly about her and ignoring the sting of his bare arms, pulled her against himself, burying his face in her hair as she gently laid her cheek to his chest. They lay still a long time, simply enjoying being together, listening to one another's quiet heartbeat. Aedan pressed his lips to top of her head and then whispered, "Am I still dreaming?"

"No, my Warden," she laughed softly against him, "you are finally awake."


	4. Chapter 4

Questions

A steady stream of visitors occupied every waking moment of the next day. Aedan was exhausted. Finally only Wynne and Leliana remained. Wynne had just finishing ushering an exuberant Oghren and chastened Alistair from the room, along with the bottle they'd carried upstairs with them. She paused in front of the couch where Aedan reclined and he looked up at her, a tired smile at the corners of his mouth. "You look as tired as I feel."

She chuckled, "Not the most flattering line I've heard, young man."

Aedan flushed, his smile immediately replaced by a more contrite expression. He cleared his throat, "I…didn't mean to say…"

Wynne leaned forward and patted his hand, "Now, now, I know what you meant. I am weary, Aedan, but you'll not see the last of me quite yet."

Aedan's eyebrows rose in surprise, he could never quite get over the candour with which Wynne regarded her own mortality. He stumbled over his words again, "I…Wynne, you shame me."

"Which was not my purpose, dear boy, but I intend to take your unspoken advice and seek my own rooms. If I can remember where they are," she smiled again at her own weak joke.

Wynne glanced toward the window where Leliana stood. Aedan followed her gaze. Leliana had been uncharacteristically quiet most of the evening and was now leaning against the sill of the window, staring out at the moon.

He looked up again at Wynne's voice, noticing the old mage had moved to the door. "Goodnight you two," she said quietly, with a small wave as she stepped through, closing the door gently behind her.

Stifling a yawn, Aedan let his head flop against the high back of the couch a moment, closing his eyes. He was tired, but only that, simply tired. He no longer felt drained and weak, or disoriented. He felt surprisingly normal. He shook his head gently, what was normal anymore?Opening his eyes he patted the cushion beside him and called to Leliana, "My love, what's on your mind?"

She glanced over at him, the soft moon light shining across her pale face, illuminating her bright eyes. Her face was sad, thoughtful. She stepped toward the couch, but dropped into the chair facing him instead, and drew her knees up under her chin, wrapping her arms about her legs. She looked at him a long moment before clearing her throat quietly to speak.

"You have had many visitors this day."

"That I have, though none whose company I enjoy as much as yours," he said with a quick smile. He could feel her tension and though he didn't know what she was thinking, he wasn't sure he wanted to. He attempted to distract her, "would you stay the night with me tonight?" Suddenly feeling shy, he added, unnecessarily, "You could sleep here."

Besides the close embrace they had shared last night when he'd finally awakened and a few chaste kisses, Leliana had been oddly distant, and he was beginning to suspect her mood had little to do with his injuries. He yearned to hold her again, to feel her soft skin against his own.

Leliana smiled briefly, then her eyes clouded and Aedan felt cold. He felt a creeping over his scalp and knew that what they talked about next would change everything between them. Why now? What was she trying to tell him? He felt sadness well up within him and he looked down at his hands. His skin was all but healed now, still slightly sensitive and he'd have to earn back a few of his callouses, but he was otherwise whole. Who did he have to thank for that; the healers, or Morrigan?

As if she had sensed his thoughts, Leliana said, "You have not asked after Morrigan."

The creeping sensation traveled down his spine, raising goose bumps along his arms and Aedan bit the inside of his cheek to keep from gasping aloud. Before he could speak, Leliana continued.

"She was never found, you know, after the battle. No body, and no one saw her leave. Surely you did not care so little for her that you are not curious as to her fate?"

Aedan glanced up from the intense study of his fingers, curious to see Leliana's expression. She sounded angry, why was she so angry? He knew that though little affection had existed between the two women, they'd developed a grudging respect for one another. Did Leliana suspect…? He'd told no one of the ritual, not even a hint! It had been so hard not to tell Alistair, but deep down he'd been sure the honourable man would disapprove. Even though he'd done it to save the king's life, Maker, to save both their lives it if came to that, he still didn't think Alistair could have lived with the knowledge that Morrigan was carrying a child with the soul of an old god.

Not for the first time, Aedan entertained his doubts. A child, his child. He'd questioned Morrigan endlessly about the child until she'd held up her hands, putting him off with a firm, "Enough!" He'd felt it then and it gripped him again now, the odd longing for this unknown child, his first born, that he'd likely never meet. He felt weak and despised the feeling. Had he compromised his values again, for the sake of his life? What was his life worth? Was even Alistair's life worth this? Yes! It had to be…they hadn't fought this long, this hard, traveling the length and breadth of Ferelden to build an army simply to sacrifice their king, the last of the Thierin blood line to an arch demon! He'd made his choice and now he had to live with it.

Leliana was studying him and though her expression had softened somewhat, her eyes held him still and he knew there was no evading her questions. He shivered and she hopped up from her chair, immediately concerned and grabbed a throw from the back of the couch. Settling it about his shoulders, she sat next to him and asked, "You are so pale and cold, Aedan, do you not feel well?"

He felt a rush of relief at her concern and thought perhaps she could be put off after all. Then he shook his head, to her and at himself. No, he needed to deal with this now or it would haunt him, haunt them. If he lost Leliana now, would it hurt any more or any less than if he lost her later? This he could not fathom and memories of her flooded his mind, taking his breath away as he realized the intensity of his feelings for this woman. He felt the insane urge to grab at his head, his thoughts were sliding again and he could feel his panic building as his feelings for Leliana mingled with his fear as he remembered the dreams prior to his awakening. What could he possibly tell her that she would understand?

"She is gone," he suddenly blurted out, surprising himself as much as Leliana. He turned to look at her and saw the worry in her face, but also the question.

"Gone? Where, how do you know this?"

Aedan drew in a breath and composed himself. He thought a moment, then choosing his words carefully, continued, "We talked, at Redcliffe Castle, the night before we marched to battle." He hesitated here, taking the time to say just enough without revealing the whole awful truth.

"She had a plan…" here he paused and shook himself mentally. He couldn't tell her! He felt simultaneous relief and dread as he realized how close he had come to revealing Grey Warden secrets. He'd found the 'loop in his hole' as Morrigan had so eloquently put it. He couldn't tell Leliana about the ritual without revealing what happened to a Grey Warden who delivered the final blow to an arch demon. Thinking quickly, he started again.

"She had plans for after the battle, she had Flemeth's real grimoire and she planned to study it." His words came faster now and though he despised himself for lying, he couldn't stop. "I think she was afraid any goodwill extended her, as a maleficar, would evaporate once order was restored to Ferelden."

Leliana nodded, slowly, her expression thoughtful. "Yes, I can see that. I understand. I am hurt she did not consider me enough of a friend to say goodbye." She paused here and looked Aedan directly in the eyes, "Obviously she felt differently toward you."

Aedan couldn't help it, he blushed, stammered and then could think of no suitable response. Leliana was smiling at him then, she leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips, then drew back and said, "Ah, a little colour becomes you, my Warden."


	5. Chapter 5

Restoring Order

The city of Denerim appeared all but destroyed by the final battle, but once workers began clearing away the rubble, it was discovered that the vast majority of her buildings still stood, requiring new doors and windows, some structural repairs and in dire cases a new roof. The worst damage had occurred in the market place and the alienage, where the arch demon's generals had marshaled their forces. The bridge between these two districts had been destroyed by the arch demon itself and had to be completely torn down and rebuilt. Many of the mustered army remained in Denerim, pitching in where they could as debris was cleared and homes declared safe once more. Outside the city gates the vast encampments slowly shrank as accommodations were restored within. Despite the losses and the wreckage, it was an optimistic time, folk of all races working together once more to restore order.

Alistair toured the city as often as he could, always accompanied by two or more of his companions. Oghren and Zevran were his most constant companions, and they were often joined by the golem Shale who was popular among the workers as she lent strength to their efforts, or by the stoic Sten, whose very presence provided enough security that Alistair's guards quickly overcame their superstitions and began actively campaigning for the Qunari to be permanently installed.

The Landsmeet clamoured for the king's attention and Alistair grudgingly spent the rest of his time closeted with the Arls and Teryns planning and learning the art of governance.

It was nearly a week before Aedan could convince his attendant mages, Taren and Wynne that he was able to leave his rooms unaccompanied. Wynne had scolded him fiercely when she found him missing the morning of his third day of recovery. She had tracked him to the courtyard where he was sparring lightly with Zevran. Her raised voice turned every head, including Aedan's causing him to miss a parry, the elf's blade landing with a smart slap against his wrist. Wynne's face turned an interesting colour and Aedan felt like a young boy again as he meekly allowed her to check his small collection of bruises and listened to her rant. Unable to convince her of his health and returned vigor, he agreed to let Taren follow him around. The young mage was a quiet man, more suited to the palace library than the armory and Aedan chafed at being so coddled.

Leliana teased him mercilessly by day, enjoying the return of the young man she had fallen for and he was gratified to see the shadows start to fade from her eyes. At night she was warm and attentive, if somewhat reserved. Though he knew her questions had only been put aside for now, he made the most of her good humour and involved her in his many schemes to slip the noose, knowing she had more tricks to evade the mages than he could ever hope to learn. He envied Leliana and Zevran's ability to melt into shadows and move soundlessly.

On the fifth day, it became obvious that Wynne and Taren were more in need of rest than Aedan and Alistair was called in to mediate the final argument. Alistair rebuked them all for wasting his time and beckoned Aedan to follow him outside.

"If you're well enough to rile up the mages, you're well enough to accompany me today," he said. Aedan sighed with ill-concealed relief and Alistair laughed aloud. "You will have to apologise to them, you know, irate mages are not useful mages."

Aedan nodded his acquiescence and asked his king, "So where do we go today?"

Oghren and Sten awaited the pair at the foot of the palace steps. Aedan brightened at the sight of the Qunari and joyously greeted him, "Sten!" Sten had visited briefly that first day, but he'd not see the big man since.

Sten nodded his head, replying in his deep voice, "Kadan."

Aedan clapped Oghren's shoulder then just stood still and savoured his freedom. He felt like hopping up and down he had so much energy. The other three companions laughed at his attitude and commented amongst one another about how a good days' work would soon dampen his enthusiasm. The four men set off.

They were heading toward the warehouse district and as they left the shadow of the palace an honour guard fell in behind them at a not so discreet distance. Though all the companions were armed, tales of opportunists and thugs were coming from back alleys and side streets behind The Pearl with increased frequency, hence the extra guard. Alistair explained his plans to Aedan as they walked, he hoped that by being accessible and visible to the people of Denerim he could inspire confidence in his rule as well as being seen to oversee the rebuilding of his capital. Aedan smiled, it was so like Alistair to want to be among all these people.

Aedan asked the king, "Speaking of ruling, has a date been set for your coronation?"

Alistair growled and said, "Not you too!"

Aedan was taken aback, "Me too what?"

Alistair grumbled an apology as Oghren explained, "The Chantry has been after him for days, all but chasing him down the streets crown in hand, waitin' for him to fall so they can land it on his head."

Aedan laughed at the mental image, then put a hand on Alistair's arm, stopping the man and turning him slightly. The companions stopped and Aedan looked at Alistair's face carefully, gauging his mood before saying, "Should we let Anora out of the tower and have her race you to the throne?"

Alistair tried to scowl, but laughed instead, clapping Aedan on the back, his usual good humour restored. "It's good to have you back, Aedan. I've missed your…unique perspective." Alistair paused and with a heavy sigh, answered the original question. "Soon, Aedan, perhaps sooner than I'd like, but I needed to make the effort to see Denerim restored first. I will not be crowned while the city is still so marked by the passage of the blight."

The men had not noticed the crowd that had started to gather about them until one of the guards called nervously, "Alright folks, stand back, you can pay your respects to His Majesty from that distance right there." Then louder, "Order please!"

Aedan looked up and a silence swept the crowd. Every face was turned upon him and he had a moment to wonder why they were looking at him, not Alistiar, before the first voice called out, "It's him, the Grey Warden." Another followed with, "It's the Hero of Ferelden!" and "He lives!"

The crowd surged forward as people started to reach for him, their hands outstretched. A small boy slipped between the nearest guard's legs and stood before Aedan, a look of awe on his upturned face. Aedan smiled down at the boy and the boy reached forward, wrapping his skinny arms around his armoured knees. The guard reached down to pry the boy from Aedan's legs and the gap he left was quickly overrun with people who reached in to touch Aedan from all directions. The hands were reverent at first, but as more people pushed forward the companions and the guards were torn between protecting the king and keeping Aedan on his feet as folk shoved and crawled forward.

Just as Aedan began to panic, fearing for his safety and Alistair's, a clang of steel followed by a mighty roar rang above the massed people. Silence befell the crowd, most of which began to step back nervously allowing the guards to reinforce their position. At the centre of the group, Sten stood tall and mighty, his huge sword raised above his head. He turned, his purple eyes glowing, and stared out over the heads of the crowd. The spell was broken and the guards quickly restored order, working simultaneously to disperse the people and move the companions forward out of the square.

Alistair turned to Aedan and commented dryly, "Perhaps we should make you king, the crowd loves you."

Aedan laughed, partly from relief, and replied, "Oh no, you aren't wriggling out of it that easily."

The companions enjoyed the rest of the afternoon, even stopping to lend a hand on several occasions when extra muscle was required. Aedan endured several more worshipful gazes and whispered, 'Hero of Fereldens' before he was able to tune out the adulation and speculation and focus on the tasks at hand. He found the whole situation uncomfortable and finally began to understand some of Alistair's reluctance to take the throne.

They returned to the palace, weary but in fine spirits and joined the rest of the companions for a hearty dinner. There was a festive mood in the air, this being the first time they had all dined together since camp the night before that final battle. Oghren immediately produced a cask of ale from Maker only knows where, and handing them all full mugs raised his in a toast.

"The Blighters!" he said, and they all raised their mugs.

Zevran, having heard of the afternoon's outing, raised his mug again, "The Hero of Ferelden!" he called to a round of laughs, shouts and groans. They all drank again.

Aedan raised his mug next and looked directly at Alistair. He waited for the companions to quiet before he said, "To the King of Ferelden." He and Alistair exchanged a long and thoughtful look as the rest of the companions made appreciative noises, raising their mugs and drinking again, before nodding to one another and drinking to Aedan's toast.

Aedan set his mug down and leaned back in his chair, slipping his arm about Leliana's shoulders as he hooked an ankle about her chair leg and scooted her closer to him. He had just leaned in to press a kiss to her temple when Oghren called out, "What's the matter boy? Ale got the best of yeh already?"

The companions laughed together and Aedan was encouraged, with only the most mildly disapproving glance from Wynne to collect his mug and raise it again.

Oghren glanced slyly at Leliana and said, "So did the boy ever tell you about the night we got kicked out of Tapsters?"

Wynne coughed and sat back to swallow before asking, her voice incredulous, "How on earth did you achieve that in a dwarven establishment?"

Alistair groaned and buried his head in his arms, Zevran laughed in his unique and mischievous manner and Aedan discovered his horror that his cheeks were flushed, again. Must be the ale, he thought. Only Sten remained stoic, though his eyes might have betrayed a hint of amusement.

Oghren, having gained his audience, launched into his tale.

"So, Alistair here was telling our Aedan about the joys of being a Grey Warden, other than cleavin' darkspawn in two, that is. He talked up a warden from the Anderfels, Gregor, or some such?" He looked at Alistair, who raised his head, grinning now.

The king picked up the tale, "Right, Gregor, his name was and he had challenged us all to a drinking game – him drinking a full pint for our every half."

Wynne was shaking her head now and Aedan and Leliana were laughing as they'd both heard this particular story before. Aedan watched Alistair closely and was proud of how the man handled himself when he got to the part about Duncan finding all the wardens, except Gregor, passed out on the floor. Alistair kept it together, stopping only to smile fondly in memory of Duncan and the wardens, before gesturing to Oghren to continue with his own tale.

"So Aedan here, skinny runt he is, decides to challenge us all to a game of chance, the loser having to drink a pint of the best dwarven ale each round."

It was Aedan's turn to groan and he ducked his head to Leliana's shoulder. She grinned and gently shrugged him off, saying to Oghren, "Yes, and then?"

Zevran leaned forward then and exchanging a glance and nod with the dwarf, continued the story. "I had told Aedan of a game we Crows had played in Antiva. It is simple to play as the only things required are a single dagger and plenty of ale! So Aedan draws his dagger and puts it on the table with a rather loud clatter," the elf paused here to shake his head at Aedan, "you do not have our way with the dagger my friend." Zevran winked at Leliana, who smiled.

"Nothing but an innocent round of 'spin the dagger'" Alistair put in, looking at Aedan and laughing, "We're all lucky our fearless warrior here is better at actually using his dagger than spinning it!"

Even Wynne was laughing now as the possibilities for mischief began to occur. She looked from one companion to the next, looking relaxed once again in the light-hearted atmosphere.

Oghren set his mug down with a thump and continued the story. "After losin' too many rounds, Aedan gives the dagger a last almighty spin. The dagger flies off the sodding table landin' upright in the bar, right between the barkeep's fingers and Aedan flies back off his chair, his head fallin' in the lap of the lass at the table behind him, taking her to the floor as well."

Aedan buried his burning cheeks in his hands and rocked back on his chair, nearly losing his balance again as he laughed. Oghren had lost control of his faculties, leaning back in his own chair, clapping his hands to his belly in an all out laugh. He dropped forward again, taking up his mug and finished the tale.

The 'lass' had been a noble's daughter visiting with her father at the tavern. The Lord had stood up, outraged, and his guards had swept Aedan off the dwarven lady and outside the tavern before his companions had even recovered their sensibilities – all of them having had one too many rounds of ale at this stage. "Well, except for perhaps Sten. That Qunari is damned unreadable," Oghren glanced at Sten with respect. Sten nodded back, his eyes glowing that curious violet in the lamplight. The big man was smiling, ever so slightly.

Aedan been deposited in an unceremonious heap out the side door, where vertigo finally caught up with him. The companions found him on his hands and knees, heaving his guts up into the gutter – which at the time had been cause for more hilarity and amusement as the very sight and smell had turned Alistair green, causing the other warden to grab his own abdomen and clutch at his mouth in a vain attempt to ward off the same fate. Oghren, Sten and Zevran had discovered a shared camaraderie as they shook their heads sadly at one another, Oghren supplying the word, "Humans."

After while the companions began to sober, and one by one tendered their good nights until only Alistair and Aedan were left sitting at the table. Alistair glanced at Aedan, lifting his mug as if to ask if Aedan needed a refill. Aedan shook his head vehemently, "Nooooo, I think Wynne might slay me all over again if I fall off my chair and hit my head tonight."

Alistair chuckled, putting his own mug aside as well. He turned back to look at Aedan then, with a calculating expression and Aedan returned his gaze, eye to eye. They sat like that a moment before Aedan broke the silence, speaking quietly to his king, "Whatever it is you're going to tell me, I'm not going to like it, am I?"

"That depends," said Alistair, "on your taste in clothing."

Aedan's eyebrows shot up and he stifled a laugh, "This is one of those jokes of yours I'm not going to get, right?"

Alistair joined his laugh with a chuckle and leaned against the back of his chair, folding his arms in front of him.

"As you know I've been spending quite a bit of time cloistered with Arl Eammon and the rest of the Arls and Teryns and Banns and perhaps all their personal cooks, for all I would know, making plans," Alistair paused, cocking one eyebrow in a silly expression before shaking his head and continuing, "Why anyone would actually want this job, I don't know." He sighed. "They are, of course, pushing for the coronation and soon. I actually agree with them, now that the rebuilding of Denerim is underway, and I will delay no longer."

Aedan nodded carefully, "What does this have to do with me?"

"Well…after the Landsmeet I named you Commander of my Armies, correct?"

Again, Aedan nodded, carefully.

"I want to appoint you as my Chancellor."

Aedan's mouth dropped open, "What!?" He quickly envisioned the life of court attendance, endless meetings in closed stuffy rooms, shirts with buttons and collars! He'd never see day light, he wouldn't be holding a sword in defence of his country, his king. He pictured himself stuck at a desk with ink stained fingers. Shaking himself, he slapped his hands down upon the table top and uttered the first word that came to mind, "No!"

Alistair, taken aback by Aedan's outburst, looked surprised, then hurt, "Does your word mean so little? We talked of your plans after the Landsmeet, you said you would remain at my side." The king's voice was raised and Aedan felt the man's anger.

Aedan shot back, "As Commander of your Armies, yes, not some court adviser!"

"The position of Chancellor is not just some court adviser!" Alistair responded.

"I don't want to be Chancellor!" Aedan yelled.

"I didn't want to be King!" Alistair all but roared.

Aedan rocked back in his chair at this, his anger evaporating as suddenly as it had built. His face burned with shame and he dropped his head, sighing heavily. He rubbed his eyes, then pressed his hands to his forehead, afraid to look up. He suddenly felt like a boy again and a small part of him hoped that if he hid his face like this, kept quiet long enough, Alistair might just get up and walk away in disgust.

Taking a deep breath he looked up, Alistair was looking at him and the expression on the man's face made Aedan cringe. For a moment he barely recognised the young warden he'd had met in Ostagar just over a year ago. The easy going, wise-cracking youth had been replaced with a man whose face was currently set like stone, eyes glinting in anger, frustration and regret.

"Alistair…I'm sorry." Aedan said quietly. He shook his head, spread his hands on the table top and said, "I don't know what else to say, I…was totally out of order, after all you've done, for us, for me." He stopped, full of self-loathing then. He could not believe he had yelled at the king like that, at the King! Alistair was so silent, why didn't he speak? Aedan felt hollow, and as the last of his anger drained away, it left him feeling incredibly weary.

Alistair finally moved then, bracing his hands on the table top he scraped his chair back and stood up, stepping away from the table and pacing to the windows along one wall of the room. Aedan got to his feet and turned to face the windows. He didn't want Alistair to walk away, he wanted to fix this now before either of them left this room.

He tried again, "Alistair, please talk to me, tell me why…" he paused, trying for the right words, the right tone.

"I'm just a warrior…I kill things." Here he had to pause again as the word 'kill' caught in his throat. He didn't used to 'kill' things. That same year ago the biggest thing he'd 'killed' was a practice dummy. Now he'd killed things he'd never even known existed, darkspawn, werewolves and tainted animals. He'd killed dwarves, elves and men. He'd never forget the first man he'd killed, a bandit on the road outside Lothering. He'd tried to intimidate, then to merely injure, but the bandit would not back down and he'd been forced to kill or be killed. From there it had been one after another, cultists, bandits, blood mages, all men and women. Then he'd killed Lord Howe, and finally Teryn Loghain. His ears were ringing faintly and he was starting to feel sick.

He barely heard Alistair's voice. "Hasn't there been enough killing?" Alistair turned to face him and Aedan saw it in his face too, the memories, those same battles, those same deaths. He continued, "We're so young, and yet we've seen more bloodshed and mayhem than most see in an entire lifetime."

Aedan merely nodded.

Alistair sighed and continued, "Aedan, to tell you the truth, I know you don't want…"

"Then why?" Aedan asked again.

Alistair looked him in the eye, "Because I need you there, at my back. I need someone I can trust without reservation. I need my Brother, my fellow Grey Warden, the only man who truly knows me here. I'm drowning in a sea of old men. They all mean well, but it's obvious they all think I'm an idiot and have no idea how to rule."

"You are not an idiot."

Alistair immediately countered with, "And neither are you. You're probably more educated than I am. You know these men, and they know you. You're a noble, by the Maker, you speak their language."

Aedan nodded, grudgingly accepting this as fact. Though he'd been the youngest son, and again he felt the pang of loss the deaths of his family would cause every time he thought about them, he'd had the same education as Fergus.

"I accept." He nearly whispered.

He looked up at Alistair and the king nodded, briefly, and turned away from him. Alistair started to walk away, took a few steps, then turned around. "The 'official' appointment will be made following the coronation, but Arl Eammon would have you meet with us tomorrow." He turned again and walked toward the door.

Aedan called to him again, "Alistair…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled, I have no excuse to give you."

Alistair looked back once more, "Neither do I." He sighed, turned to face Aedan across the empty room. "We're both tired, it's been a really long day." He looked at his hands and up again, "I could have handled this better. We'll talk in the morning?" He offered a weary half smile and it was nearly the saddest expression Aedan could remember seeing on the king's face. He nodded.

Alistair turned and left the room.


	6. Chapter 6

The Coronation

(For the actual coronation I will be using a lot of Alistair's speech directly from the game. There is no need to improve upon perfection! I found his words to be both profound and an accurate representation of his character. I have added only some texture to the scene and then expanded upon the celebration afterwards.)

Aedan dreamed:

He was walking through flying snow and the wind was whipping his cloak about his legs in the most annoying fashion. As if the snow were not hard enough to get through, the damp wool threatened to trip his every step. He looked up and saw the vague outlines of a building ahead. He trudged on until the building resolved itself into a hut, beyond which he could just make out several rooflines, a village.

He edged around the hut, out of the wind and leaned against the wall a minute, catching his breath. The wall was cold and still and he sensed even before investigating that the hut was deserted. Despite the snow, it was too quiet here, too still. However, the hut offered shelter and he continued around the next corner until he found the door.

The hut was indeed abandoned and not the cleanest abode he'd visited – but the roof was solid, the door shut after him and there was wood stacked next to the hearth. It wasn't long before he had the small space warmed enough that he could abandon the wet cloak and boots and settle before the fire, warming his toes and fingers. Such small hands and feet…he stared at them wonderingly, not his hands and feet. He heard a voice, a familiar voice.

"So there you are, sticking your nose in where it does not belong." Morrigan said. "Why do you persist in following me?" She asked then raised a hand and continued, "No, no, don't answer me, for I know you cannot."

Aedan could feel her tiredness and oddly, that same touch of loneliness he'd sensed last time he'd 'traveled' with her. He waited for her to push him away and was surprised that she did not. 'They' sat still, contemplating the flames silently a few minutes longer, and then Morrigan simply said, "Time for you to go." And he was gone.

Aedan opened his eyes. He was so warm! He tried to catch the lingering traces of his dream, feeling as if he was forgetting something, but it was gone. The windows were tinged with grey, it was just before dawn. He sighed and turned his head. Leliana was asleep beside him, the source of his warmth no doubt as her arm was flung across his chest, her forehead against his shoulder. It wasn't often that he woke before her, it was more likely he'd open his eyes to find her watching him. She seemed to enjoy watching him sleep. He smiled, and shifting his shoulders slightly, turned to take her in his arms, pulling her against him. He started dropping soft kisses on her face, moving down over her closed eyes to her lips. He had plans for her and they included a lot more than simply watching her sleep.

It was some time later before Leliana tried coax Aedan from bed. Her expression was wistful, belying the crisp tone of her voice as she said, "Not that I wouldn't spend all day in bed with my Warden, but today is Alistair's big day!"

Aedan pulled the sheets over his head with a groan, and Leliana attempted to pull them down again resulting in a quick tug of war, the warrior's superior strength winning out, Leliana ending up tangled in the sheets and clasped in his arms once more.

"Aha!" he cried, "I have you now!"

Leliana laughed delightedly, wriggling in the sheet, her remaining strength sapped by her mirth. She tried to look stern, but it was very hard to pull off with her hair flying around her head and her arms trapped in twists of bedclothes.

Their play was interrupted by a brisk knock at the door. Aedan growled and gently disengaging himself from Leliana and sheets, grabbed a robe and went to investigate. Their baths had been prepared, it was time to start the day.

It had been two months since the Final Battle and the slaying of the Arch Demon. The entire city of Denerim turned out to greet its new King as he made a ceremonial tour to the palace, starting at the city gates. The parade moved slowly along clean swept streets, Alistair resplendent in his golden armour at the head, flanked by Aedan in his recognizable Warden Commander Armour at his left and Oghren, head held high and proud, his best Dwarven dragonbone plate polished to a high gloss, at his right. They were followed by the King's Guard and Zevran and Leliana, the last two companions to remain in the city. Sten had suddenly bid them farewell a month ago, ready to report his answers to the Arishok. Wynne had accompanied Shale on a quest to the Tevinter Magi, seeking magics that might restore the golem to her former self.

The entire collected Ferelden nobility awaited their King at the Landsmeet chamber, the vast hall fully restored and bedecked with ribbons and flowers in honour of the occasion. The procession acquired an air of solemnity as they passed through the wide doors and into the hall. The Kings Guard stopped at the doors, arraying themselves to either side of the entrance chamber. Alistair nodded to their captain and glanced quickly to either side of himself, as if checking Aedan and Oghren were still with him. The Grand Cleric awaited Alistair at the top of the dais and the King paused before the lowest of the six stone steps. Aedan and Oghren stepped back and Alistair mounted the steps alone, stopping to kneel before the Grand Cleric. She gently placed a hand on his head and conferred the blessings of the Maker on Ferelden's new King. It was done. Alistair stood, bowed his head to the Cleric and turned to face the hall.

The noise was deafening as the gathered crowed cheered and clapped and Alistair allowed himself an awkward smile before schooling his features into a more regal expression. He raised a hand and silence fell.

Alistair said a few words of acceptance, his eyes alighting on near every face in the hall. The man was a natural leader of people and it showed. Aedan was impressed with Alistair's composure and confidence. This man was a far cry from the young warden he'd encountered riling up mages that day in Ostagar. This man was every inch a king. His thoughts were dragged back to the present as Alistair's voice changed tone.

"My friends, we are also gathered here to celebrate those responsible for our victory." Alistair's gaze touched on Zevran, Leliana and Oghren before finally coming to rest upon Aedan.

"Of those who stood against the darkspawn siege of Denerim, there is one in particular who deserves commendation. The one who led the final charge against the arch demon remains with us still, an inspiration to all he saved that day"

Alistair beckoned and Aedan walked forward to the stone steps, mounting them slowly before coming to stand at the king's side.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you the hero of Ferelden, the first Grey Warden to defeat the Blight since Garahel four centuries ago."

The crowd erupted in cheers once more and Aedan looked down to the one face whose expression he cared about. Leliana was beaming at him, her eyes bright. He smiled back to her, and only her as the applause slowly subsided.

Alistair spoke again, "My friend, it is hard to imagine how you could have served your country more. I think it only appropriate that I return the favour. Is there any boon that you might request of Ferelden's king? If it is within my power, I will grant it."

Aedan had turned to look at his king once more, listening quietly and attentively to Alistair's words. They had exchanged no more harsh words since that night after dinner when Alistair had announced his plans. In fact beyond Aedan's contributions to policy and governance and his discussions with Alistair and his former regent, Arl Eammon, they'd not had many chances to just talk. Time had soothed their hurts and they had regained most of their former easy going friendship. Now Aedan felt he finally had a chance to let Alistair know that he was his man, and that his loyalty and friendship were to be counted upon, without question.

He looked at Alistair directly and said without hesitation, his voice loud and clear, "I only wish to continue to serve the crown, Your Majesty."

He saw the light in Alistair's eyes and knew with a certainty that his message had been delivered. He nodded, smiled and spoke, "Then I hereby appoint you chancellor, to serve as my advisor in the years to come."

A murmur of appreciation rippled through the packed hall and Aedan heard Alistair's voice beneath it, "Maker knows I need it."

Aedan grinned and accepted Alistair's outstretched arm, the two men grasped each other about the forearm, their armoured gloves clanking slightly at the gesture.

Aedan stepped aside then, allowing Alistair to continue his speech.

"I have one more appointment and only a few more remarks if your patience will indulge me a little further." This was met with general amusement and approval and Alistair gestured Oghren to step forward.

"I suddenly find myself without a commander for my armies," a rueful glance over his shoulder at Aedan, "I'd be honoured, Oghren, if you would accept the position."

The dwarf was grinning ear to ear and he bounced up the stairs to grasp Alistair's arm, his head bobbing in a bow of acceptance. All of Denerim knew of Oghren's leadership at the city gates, how the dwarf had marshaled the forces at his disposal and held the horde back, allowing Ferelden's allies to find the arch demon's generals and sweep the city of darkspawn. They accepted the appointment with cheers and appreciation.

The crowd quieted again and Alistair cleared his throat, his expression becoming serious once more, "Let it also be known that the arling of Amaranthine, once the land of Arl Howe is now granted to the Grey Wardens. There they can rebuild, following the example of those who went before them."

Alistair bowed his head a moment, the nobility following suit, every heart and mind giving silent thanks to the Wardens who had fallen at Ostagar.

"Finally, I would gift the land south of Ostagar to the clans of the Dalish, who allied themselves with all of Ferelden against the Blight. I hope this is the beginning of a new friendship between our two peoples, a true uniting of all Ferelden."

This final pronouncement met with mixed, but for the majority, genial reaction from those assembled. It had been a sticking point in Alistair's negations with the nobility leading up to the coronation and therefore came as no great surprise. The attendant Dalish wore cautiously optimistic expressions, graciously accepting the congratulations and goodwill of those people standing near them.

Then the official business was over and with a wave and final cheer from the crowd, Alistair stepped from the dias, followed by Aedan and Oghren, and went to join Arl Eammon, accepting the man's hug and congratulations.

The former regent began talking earnestly with Alistair and has the pair moved away, Aedan caught sight of a familiar face. He blinked and gasped, his ears ringing as all colour drained from his face. He did not hear Leliana and Zevran approach from behind, calling to him.

The man saw him at the same moment and his face broke into a wide grin. He quickly stepped forward and gathered Aedan into a tight grasp, ignoring the armour, then took Aedan's face and kissed his forehead before dropping his hands and stepping back.

"Little brother," Fergus Cousland said, smiling.

Zevran and Leliana had halted in their approach and watched wide-eyed as Aedan stepped forward to grasp the stranger again, pulling him into another hug. "Fergus, I…" He had no words.

Then both men were grinning broadly at one another, standing with their arms clasped. Fergus spoke, "When I heard that not only was my little brother a Grey Warden, but leading Ferelden against the arch demon, I could scarcely believe it. Yet here you are." His expression darkened, "I thought you had died at the castle…"

Aeden shook his head dumbly, still lost for words. He finally found his tongue and said, "I'm so sorry about Oriana and Oren."

The two men dropped their arms and stood quietly facing each other a moment, each reliving the pain of loss. Aedan looked up and said quietly, "I killed Howe, you know, he paid the price of his crimes."

He saw Fergus face harden in acknowledgement and felt relief that his brother did not judge him, only said, "I wish I could have been there to see him die."

They nodded to one another, and Aedan asked, "What happened to you at Ostagar? I feared you dead – we looked," he shook his head as he remembered the horrors of the battlefield and the daunting Korcari Wilds.

Fergus replied, "It's alright, little brother, I know you had more…pressing issues. I have always been able to look after myself, eh?"

They shared a smile, and Fergus, looking over Aedan's shoulder noticed Leliana and Zevran waiting and gestured to him, "I think someone wishes to speak with you. We can catch up later…I will be returning to Highever tomorrow. There is much to be done. Will I see you before I leave?"

"Count on it," Aedan said, grasping Fergus shoulder one last time as his brother moved off. He turned and found Leliana and Zevran standing behind them. He grinned widely and said somewhat simply, "That was Fergus, my brother."

He had no more words at that moment, he was so filled with conflicting emotions. The two companions understood, perhaps better than most would, and allowed him the time he needed to compose himself.

Just then there was a stir in the entrance chamber, and the crowded nobles stirred and moved aside as a messenger hurried through. He scanned the room, found Aedan, recognizable in his distinctive armour and hurried forward. "A message for the king, my lord," he said, "The Orlesian Wardens have arrived."


	7. Chapter 7

**The Orlesian Wardens**

Aedan thanked the messenger and turned to find Alistair. The king had not gone far and looked up from discussion with Arl Eammon at Aedan's approach, one eyebrow raised as if to mock the gathering and question Aedan at the same time. He looked at that moment so much like the young grey warden that Aedan nearly laughed. Instead, he tapped the Arl of Redcliffe on the shoulder, murmuring "Excuse me, Eammon," and faced Alistair. "I just received word, the Grey Wardens of Orlais have just arrived."

"What wonderful timing they have," Alistair commented drily, then excusing himself as well, stepped to Aedan's side and said, "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

Messengers were dispatched to prepare one of the palace sitting rooms for their meeting and inquire if the Wardens had secured accommodations while Alistair and Aedan walked toward the entrance chamber. They paused before the doors and Alistair turned to Aedan saying, "Our first official visitors, I'm a bit nervous, aren't you?"

Nervous was an understatement, Aedan knew the question that was most likely to be asked and though he and Alistair had discussed his 'lack of death', they'd not been able to come up with an excuse better than 'dumb luck'. He thought back to the second day he'd been awake after having lain immobile, for nearly two weeks, or so he'd been told. Alistair had come to visit him early that morning, sending everyone, even a protesting Wynne away citing 'Grey Warden' business and had carefully shut and locked the door behind her.

He had returned to Aedan's side, sat down in the chair next to the bed and first asked after his health. After ascertaining his friend's well-being, Alistair had surprised him by immediately getting to the heart of the matter, "You should have died atop that tower, my friend, don't get me wrong, I'm so very glad you are alive, but against all reason you did not die with the arch demon."

Aedan nodded slowly, his head still reeling from the awful dreams he had suffered while being unconscious for two weeks, his body still weak from the healing – though a mage expended their own energy healing encouraging a person's wounds to mend, it was up to that person's body to provide the energy required to re-knit bones and tissue or in his case, re-grow substantial amounts of skin. Wynne had speculated this was why he'd been out for so long.

Alistair continued, "I've speculated upon every possibility while you recovered, ranging from the bizarre to the ridiculous and I've come up with two answers." He held up a finger, "One, Riordan was wrong," he held up a second finger, "Two, Wynne is a more talented healer than we could possibly have believed."

Aedan had not spoken beyond confirming his health and he held his tongue now, waiting to see if Alistair would go on. He did. The king held up a third finger and looked Aedan directly in the eye, "There is a third possibility," he paused, "What was Morrigan doing in your room that last night at Castle Redcliffe?"

Aedan closed his eyes and sighed quietly, then looked over at Alistair and said, "And you wonder why I never believed you were stupid."

Alistair looked horrified for a moment, then recovered, whispering hoarsely, "Aedan, what have you done?"

Aedan's voice broke as he started his confession. He'd been able to keep this from Leliana last night, but he'd known deep down that he couldn't keep it from Alistair. "She offered me, us, a way out. Alistair I had to do it, otherwise you could have died!"

Alistair repeated himself, a little louder this time, "Aedan…what have you done?"

Aedan swallowed against a suddenly dry throat and reached for the water beside the bed. He took a long swallow, handing the cup back to Alistair when he was done, then started to speak.

"She spoke of a ritual, performed on the night before battle. I had to," he hesitated here, looking away from Alistair's face in embarrassment, "I had to lay with her."

Alistair burst out laughing, "You what? She told you that? Aedan, I'm supposed to be the idiot here, you actually fell for a line like that?"

Aedan looked angrily at Alistair and said quietly, "Stop laughing, it wasn't a line, she knew I would never betray Leliana…" his voice dropped, "But I did, didn't I?"

"There's more to this, isn't there?" Alistair asked.

Aedan went on to explain about the child that was supposed to be conceived that night. As the tale unfolded Alistair fell silent, his expression turning grave. Aedan told him about the soul of the old god, about his promise not to follow Morrigan, he even told him about the odd dream he'd had just after he had…died, but not died, delivering the final blow to the arch demon.

Alistair dropped his head into his hands and said once more, "Oh Aedan, what have you done?"

Aedan responded immediately with, "I did it for you, Alistair, and I don't expect to be thanked or anything like that, but when faced with the possibility of your death, after all we'd done to unite Ferelden, make you king, if something…if anything could possibly prevent that, well then it was a risk I was prepared to take."

Alistair surprised him then by replying, "I know, Aedan, I know…and I understand."

Aedan stammered, "You do?"

Alistair nodded, "I hate the idea of Morrigan gaining something out of this, but if I was to be completely honest…" he looked up at Aedan, meeting his eyes, "I think I'd made the same choice."

They were silent a moment, then Alistair said, "You haven't told Leliana, have you?"

Aedan swore under his breath and replied, "I tried to, last night, I made a mess of it and ended up not telling her at all. I told myself it was a Grey Warden secret, but Alistair, this will be my child…I don't know if I can keep my promise to Morrigan."

Alistair nodded, considering, then said, "I'm going to leave that one up to you, my friend. You know how little experience I have with affairs of the heart, but if I were you, I'd choose my words very carefully."

Aedan accepted this advice, "Thank you." He hesitated, then said again, "Thank you for understanding."

Alistair had leaned back in his chair and put his finger tips together, looking down a moment, thinking, then looked up, asking the question they both knew came next.

"What are we going to tell the Orlesian Wardens?"

The Orlesian Wardens were gathered in the centre of the entrance chamber, five men all dressed in armour not unlike Aedan's own. Their leader, a tall thin man with ash blonde hair and pale blue eyes in a finely chiseled face crossed his arms over his chest and bent slightly at the waist, bowing to Alistair.

Alistair formerly welcomed the Wardens as Brothers and introduced Aedan. The leader introduced the four men behind him, then himself, "I am Damien Fournier, Warden Commander of Orlais." The Orlesian looked from Alistair to Aedan and said, "Which of you is Warden Commander of Ferelden?"

Alistair and Aedan each pointed to the other and said, "He is."


	8. Chapter 8

Grey Warden Business

"Well, we're off to an auspicious start!" Alistair quipped as he and Aedan followed a palace servant to the sitting room that had been prepared for their meeting with the Orlesians.

Aedan rolled his eyes and made for a chair, sinking into it gratefully. He watched as Alistair sat in a chair opposite, leaving the rather ornate chair at the centre of the grouping empty. He flicked his glance at the larger chair and said to Alistair, "You're supposed to be sitting there, you know."

"Oh, no, I'm not sitting in the big chair, I'm already King, that's enough leading…"

Aedan laughed, "It's the Kings' Chair!"

Alistair uttered a quiet, "Oh" and resettled himself in the larger chair.

He turned to face Aedan, a familiar expression on his face. Aedan immediately put up his hands, waving them in front of his face and started in, "No, Alistair, no. You've already made me chancellor, you can't make me Warden Commander too."

Alistair surprised him by laughing quietly, dipping his head, then looking up again before replying, "We really should have discussed this, you know."

"Well we were a bit more concerned with how to explain my 'lack of death' if I recall."

Alistair sobered, "Yes."

Aedan said thoughtfully, "I wish Sten were still here, he'd be a formidable Warden Commander."

Alistair replied, "Hm, I wonder if Oghren…"

Aedan said quickly, "You really think you could convince Oghren to drink a vial of darkspawn blood…"

Alistair sighed, "You're probably right."

Aedan threw up his hands again, "Alright, I'll do it, anything to get out of those endless meetings and advisory sessions."

Aedan smiled and chuckled at his friend, adding, "Do you ever stop to think about the why, or the how of all this? How we, two men younger than anyone else in that Landsmeet chamber ended up running an entire country. Do you think we scare the nobles?"

Alistair's smile widened as he answered both questions at once, "All the time, Aedan, all the time."

There was a perfunctory knock at the door and a guard popped his head through, announcing the Orlesian Wardens, before opening the door wide.

Aedan and Alistair both stood, bowing their heads in greeting as Damien Fournier led the other four wardens into the room. The Orlesian Commander took the chair previously occupied by Alistair, across from Aedan and to the left of the Kings' chair. The other four sat down, completing the circle and two servants entered, bearing trays of refreshments.

Once everyone had had the opportunity to obtain a drink and something to eat, the men mostly exchanged pleasantries. The Orlesian wardens talked about their journey, and Aedan and Alistair provided commentary on the rebuilding of Denerim. After a short time Damien Fournier set down his cup and cleared with throat with authority.

Alistair managed a brief wink in Aedan's direction and Aedan swallowed a chuckle. Apparently the 'meeting' had begun.

Damien Fournier sat back in his chair and held a hand out to the warden at his left. The warden quickly placed a pile of letters and envelopes in the commander's hand and Fournier sorted through them before looking up at Alistair.

"So, has it been decided which of you will lead the Ferelden Grey Wardens?"

Aedan held his hand up, feeling suddenly like a school boy once more, "That would be me, ah, Ser."

Fournier waved a hand and said, "Please, let us be not so formal, we are all brothers here, are we not?" He turned his gaze about the room, the accompanying smile just short of warm.

The commander turned back to Aedan, his eyes narrowing slightly as he said, "Aedan Cousland, the 'Hero of Ferelden', the only Grey Warden to slay an arch demon and live to tell the tale. But we will get back to that."

Aedan tried not to slump with relief.

The commander glanced at the papers again before turning to Alistair, "We received many reports and letters regarding the Blight in Ferelden. I understand you had Riordan's body sent to his family in Highever?"

Alistair nodded, "Yes, according to his wishes. Although I expressed my condolences in my own letter, let me repeat that Riordan's contribution to ending the Blight will be remembered and honoured here in Ferelden. He was a good man."

Fournier nodded, "Yes, he was. His own report, however, is…disturbing."

Aedan exchanged a worried glance with Alistair and asked the Orlesian commander, "disturbing in what way?"

Fournier continued, "I understand that over the course of the year between Ostagar and the final battle, you did not manage to recruit any new Grey Wardens."

Alistair spoke up immediately, "We had no details of the ritual until we rescued Riordan from Howe's dungeons, and even then," he scowled, "Loghain had removed Ferelden's supply of arch demon blood."

Fournier went on, ignoring Alistair, "and yet you secured many interesting traveling companions." He shuffled the papers, "A 'witch of the wilds', a lay sister of the Chantry," his eyes rose as he added, "whose real identity is known to us, by the way." He continued, "A Qunari, a Circle Mage, an Antivan assassin, a dwarf and," again hesitation as he looked up, "a golem?"

Aedan put in quietly, "Wardens have always taken what allies they could."

Fournier nodded, "Indeed." He continued, "May I ask where all your companions are now?"

Aedan ran down the list, "Zevran, the Antivan, is here in Denerim, as is…Leliana. Wynne, the circle mage has undertaken a quest on behalf of Shale, the golem. Sten, the Qunari, returned to his people. Oghren is commander of the King's armies."

The Orlesian Commander raised a brow, "and the witch?"

Aedan swallowed, "Morrigan… she disappeared after the Final Battle."

"I see."

Aedan felt a creeping down his spine and wondered just how much Fournier thought he 'saw'.

Alistair spoke up then, leaning forward in his chair, speaking more as a King than a Warden "Is there a point to this?"

Fournier glanced at Alistair and seemed to remember the man was indeed a King and nodded, before addressing his reply to Aedan, "Can we safely assume that none of these companions obtained knowledge of the Grey Wardens beyond the necessity of defeating the Blight?"

Aedan blinked. He suddenly missed Duncan acutely. The Ferelden Warden Commander had been crisp and business-like when required, but there had been an underlying warmth to the man. He missed Riordan. Though he'd known the Orlesian warden for only a short time, he'd come to respect him greatly. Riordan had represented everything he thought the Grey Wardens stood for. This Fournier was… a pompous ass. Not letting his gaze waver, he allowed the lie to pass his lips. "No."

Fournier nodded and replied, "I will take your word at that Commander, for now."

The Orlesian shuffled his papers again. He glanced at Alistair. "I understand you have designated lands known as the arling of Amaranthine as the new Grey Warden headquarters."

It was Alistair's turn to blink. He answered, "The official announcement was just made today, yes."

Fournier put the letters aside finally and looked up again. "When will Commander Cousland be leaving for Amaranthine?"

Aedan exchanged another glance with Alistair before replying to the Orlesian, "As soon as I am able, Commander Fournier."

Fournier nodded and gestured to the two Orlesian wardens sitting beside Aedan. "These two Wardens will accompany you."

Before Aedan or Alistair could react to that pronouncement, Fournier continued, "Now, onto the slaying of this arch demon," he paused here and looked at Aedan directly, "How is it that you are still alive?"

Aedan shrugged and tried, "I'm lucky?"


	9. Chapter 9

The Crow

Alistair looked up at a knock on the door. He smiled a warm welcome as the Antivan assassin stepped into his study.

"Zevran, it's good to see you."

"Likewise, Your Majesty," the elf bowed with a flourish, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Alistair laughed and held up his hands, "Please, enough with the formality…"

"As you say…" Zevran stopped before Alistair's desk, adopting a light, easy stance Alistair knew from experience. The assassin was ever poised to strike and though he had come to respect Zevran, he was never truly at ease around him.

Zevran continued, "To what do I owe the honour of this invitation to visit the King of Ferelden?"

"I have a job for you Zev." Alistair replied with a smile.

Zevran rubbed his hands together, breaking into a wide grin. "Ah, and who is it you need disposed of?"

Alistair's face assumed a shocked expression. "What? No...I don't need anybody killed," he thought over the task he was about to give the elf and added under his breath, "Yet."

"Just say the word, my friend, I am your man!" Zevran responded enthusiastically. He continued, "So what is it to be, hm? Perhaps you would like me to investigate these prospective brides of yours?"

Alistair gaped at him.

Zevran went on, "I assure you, my methods would be most cunning."

The king looked totally blank for a moment before he shook his head and said, "Prospective brides?"

Zevran raised his brows, "Surely you know that your former regent has been ah…vetting young women, young noble women," the assassin's expression turned vaguely lecherous, "one or two of them are even quite…arresting." He winked at Alistair, obviously enjoying his discomfort.

Alistair covered his face with his hands, muttering under his breath, "By Andraste's flaming sword."

Zevran waited for the king to recover, bouncing on his toes, his hands clasped loosely behind him.

Alistair sighed, dropped his hands and commented, "Seems I need to issue yet another royal invitation today."

Zevran raised his brows, but said nothing.

Alistair cleared his throat and said, "Zev, how do you know these things?"

The elf merely shrugged, "It is what I do. Now, you invited me to your study to discuss a job, yes?"

"Right." Alistair dragged his thoughts back to the task at hand. "Aedan is leaving for Amaranthine in the morning. I'd like you to go with him, make use of those unique talents of yours."

"Your wish is my command," Zevran tendered another theatric bow. As he straightened he caught something in Alistair's expression. He raised a brow.

"Watch his back, Zevran, I don't trust those Orlesian Wardens."

The assassins daggers suddenly appeared in his hands, the crossed them in front himself and nodded his head to Alistair, "No harm shall come to the Warden Commander while I am around," he said softly.

Alistair shivered.

Daggers sheathed, Zevran inquired, "If there is nothing else?"

"No, and Zev, thank you."

Zevran nodded and slipped quietly from the room.

Alistair followed him to the door, but as he looked through to catch the attention of the attendant guard, he noticed the elf had already disappeared into the shadows. He summoned the guard. "Send word to Arl Eamon that I would see him at his earliest convenience, please."

He returned to his study and had barely sat down before there was another knock at his door. Aedan poked his head through and Alistair beckoned him into the room. It was hard to keep the sad expression from his face, he was going to miss his friend and advisor over the course of the next few weeks. Aedan appeared equally somber as he stepped past the desk, coming to stand before him.

"I'll be leaving with the dawn tomorrow, so I came to see if you had any last minute advice."

Alistair smiled, "You are the advisor Aedan, not me."

Aedan grinned. "Eamon is still in Denerim, you won't lack for advice while I am gone."

Alistair groaned and Aedan raised a brow, "Something wrong?"

"Apparently Eamon's advice will be about who I shall marry."

Aedan chuckled, "So you heard?"

Alistair looked hurt, "You knew about this?"

"I'd thought it was little more than gossip until Leliana told me yesterday. Her sources tend to be more reliable than idle chatter between cooks and maids. I would have mentioned it to you, but the coronation, the meeting with the Orlesians," Aedan sighed, "It slipped my mind."

"Understandable." Alistair provided. He looked at his friend, "I wish I was coming to Amaranthine. I sort of miss the traveling and the camping, the excitement of the road."

Aedan grinned, "Do you miss my cooking?"

Alistair shook his head vehemently, "No, that I do not miss. I'm pretty sure that without Wynne, we might all have perished well before the final battle."

Aedan laughed.

Alistair placed a hand on Aedan's arm. "Be careful Brother, I can't help but feel the Orlesian wardens plan to do more than merely observe. I have neither Zevran nor Leliana's talent for reading people, or seeking hidden agendas, but…the meeting yesterday, it ended rather oddly, don't you think?"

"You mean the fact that they didn't seem to question my 'divine' luck?" Aedan asked.

"There's that," Alistair nodded, "Also, the look Fournier gave the two wardens he is sending with you, it was just so…chilly."

Aedan nodded. "There is no doubt in my mind that the matter is far from resolved. I'll be careful." He grasped Alistair's arm in return. "I'll see you in a few weeks then?"

Aedan stepped back around the desk and turned toward the door. Alistair called out after him. "Aedan, I've asked Zev to travel with you tomorrow."

Aedan stopped and turned around. "If you cannot travel with me, there is no one else I'd rather have at my back, but Alistair, I thought he was to watch after you?"

"It's your safety that concerns me more right now, and Oghren's pretty canny for a dwarf, don't you think?" Alistair smiled. He did not mention that Leliana would also be staying, knowing that the pair had discussed this at length, finally agreeing that he had needed her skills here in Denerim more than Aedan needed his lover on the road to Amaranthine. But he knew of the deep affection that existed between the two companions, as unlikely as it had seemed when they had all first begun traveling together and he felt sympathy for the man.

He had often envied Aedan his apparent ease with women and had been surprised when the warrior had devoted himself to the bard. He'd been convinced for a time that Leliana had Aedan under some sort of enchantment, until he'd come to recognise that the pair were simply in love. His mind wandered to the news of Arl Eamon choosing a wife for him and he fought to keep the scowl from his face.

Aedan had noticed his pause, however, and Alistair knew the man guessed at some of his thoughts. They again exchanged fond farewells, then Aedan dipped a small bow at the door, "Your Majesty."

Alistair scoffed and waved him off. "Travel safe." He sat down to await the arrival of Arl Eamon.

--=0=--

Aedan was in a thoughtful mood as he returned to his rooms. While part of him was eager to leave the city, particularly as this journey would give him the chance to visit Castle Cousland and his brother, he realized he would miss not only his companions, but the work he'd been doing with Alistair. It had been oddly satisfying to use his mind for a change. He'd forgotten the pleasure of a good book, a quiet afternoon in a decent library. Though most of his reading was far from leisurely, he enjoyed the histories and long documents on law and politics. He'd long since forgiven Alistair for naming him chancellor and had risen to the challenge, studying as hard as the king, eager to help restore the city of Denerim and civil order to all of Ferelden.

They'd had a lot of fun too. Being the 'Hero of Ferelden' certainly had its advantages. The first time they had visited one of the lower class taverns, Arl Eamon had nearly had a fit until Aedan had reassured the man that no one would get close to the king with himself and Zevran around. The people loved Alistair, his visits to the more common areas of the city had continued beyond the rebuilding efforts. The king took an active interest in several projects, including the restoration of the alienage – without imposing walls and gates – and Aedan enjoyed being part of such a legacy. Alistair was proving to be an effective leader and Aedan was gratified that all their struggles had not been for naught.

He turned a corner and caught sight of a shadow moving into an alcove set along the wall. He paused, hands instinctively reaching for his swords before he realized he was unarmed. Dropping his hands he slipped one foot slightly forward and relaxed his knees, attaining a defensive posture that also allowed him to spring forwards or backwards as required.

Aedan felt the air move behind him and he spun on his back foot, his arm raised to his shoulder, elbow bent. He felt his elbow connect with something solid and winced at the cracking sound as whoever was behind him dropped to the ground. He spun forward again, sensing his second attacker leaving the shadows of the alcove, and bracing one hand against the wall of the hall, shifted his weight to his front foot, raising his back leg in a front kick that caught the approaching figure directly in the abdomen, not only winding his target, but keeping the daggers he held in both hands out of reach. The attacker bent forward and Aedan immediately stepped in, raising his arm and driving his elbow down between the exposed shoulder blades. As his target dropped to the floor, he stepped on one hand, immobilizing it as he bent forward to pry the dagger from the other. He then repeated the process, tucking both daggers through his belt before pausing to listen for any more movement.

Zevran stepped around the corner, his face a mask of respect, "Nice work, my friend, I see our practice sessions have paid off."

Aedan started. "How long have you been there?" he asked.

"Long enough to know you did not require my help," he paused, "this time." The assassin tipped over the first unconscious form and whistled softly. "I know this man, though he is supposed to be dead."

Zevran stepped to the other slumped body and examined the face, another man. "This one I do not know." He deftly searched both men for hidden weapons, poisons and the like, then said to Aedan, "We should alert the guard and perhaps I will take a look at your rooms before you enter."

Aedan watched over the unconscious men as Zevran searched his room. He was relieved when the elf announced his room clear of traps, obvious poisons or any assassins waiting behind shadows and gave a short prayer of thanks to the Maker that Leliana had not planned to meet him until after dinner. Zevran slipped away as quietly as he'd arrived, returning a few minutes later with two guardsmen who unceremoniously threw the two men over their shoulders and carried them away. Alistair arrived a few minutes later, two more guardsmen in tow.

Aedan invited the men into his rooms and flopped onto his couch, spreading his legs out before him. He looked up at Zevran, "So what can you tell us Zev, who are they… what are they?"

Zevran did not look happy as he spoke. "The one I recognised, he is, or was a Crow."

The Crow (part 2)

Aedan was not entirely surprised by this announcement, something in Zevran's manner had indicated such before the two assassins had been taken away. However he felt compelled to ask, "Was?"

Zevran nodded, "Alfeo his name is, and he never returned from his last mission. It is usually assumed when this happens that the Crow is dead."

"Any idea where that last mission was?" Alistair asked.

Zevran looked extremely disturbed, an expression so out of place on the elf's face that both Aedan and Alistair sat forward expectantly.

"He went to Orlais," he said.

The silence was broken by the opening of the door. Leliana entered the room. Her lovely face was even more pale than usual. She immediately stepped across to Aedan, kneeling beside the couch and taking his hands in hers. She looked up at him, her expression remarkably similar to Zevran's. Aedan pulled her to her feet, standing with her and wrapped his arms about her in a close hug, before stepping back and indicating she should sit next to him.

"Aedan" she said quietly, and all three men looked at her intently, there was something in her voice that commanded attention. "I've been to see the two men you captured. One I do not know but the other I recognise!"

Alistair piped up then, "Let me guess, he's from Orlais?"

Leliana's eyebrows shot up in surprise and she regarded the king with respect, "Yes, but how did you know?"

Zevran replied to this, "One of the men is also known to me. He was a Crow whose last mission, from which he did not return I might add, was to Orlais."

The two rogues compared notes then and discovered that they had each identified a different man.

"What does this mean?" Aedan asked, "If the Orlesians wanted me dead, why try here? I'll be out in the open tomorrow."

Zevran and Leliana exchanged looks, nodded and Leliana replied. "You were not their target and their intention was not to kill."

Just then, the door nearly flew off its hinges as Oghren barreled through, startling the four companions.

"What's this I hear about assassin's lurking in the palace?" He said loudly, directing his glare first at Zevran, then Leliana.

Zevran rose to his feet and said, "I think I will go see if I can flush any more crows from the rafters," and slipped quietly from the room.

Leliana rebuked the dwarf, "Oghren, you scared Zevran!"

Oghren took the assassin's place on the couch and replied, "Nothing scares that elf! Now is someone going to tell me who is gettin' killed and who is doin' the killing?"

Aedan quickly filled in the details and then looked to Leliana for the last, his expression confused, "but who were they trying to…?"

"Me," she said quietly, "and the poison on their daggers and in their pockets is not deadly, it is a sleep potion."

Stunned silence pervaded the room.

Aedan recovered first, asking the most obvious question, "Why?"

"The Orlesian Commander, I met him Orlais, though he was not a Grey Warden at the time. He was a Chevalier and devoted to the Empress Celene. I know many of this man's secrets."

All three men shivered.

There was a knock at the door, a guard with a message for Alistair, "The Arl of Redcliffe awaits you in your study, Your Majesty."

Alistair looked momentarily surprised, then excused himself, cursing under his breath. He turned at the door, addressing Leliana, "Can we discuss this further tomorrow?" She nodded.

Oghren followed the king out, leaving Aedan and Leliana alone.

Aedan turned to Leliana and gathered her in his arms once more, holding her close, turning his cheek to rest it atop her head. His hands, through habit, slipped from her shoulders and down her back, brushing the soft velvet of her dress. He enjoyed seeing Leliana in dresses, she had a knack for choosing colours and styles that worked best with her complexion and hair, favouring blues of all shades and even producing, on occasion, shirts for Aedan that coordinated with her own outfits. He'd been a bit self conscious the first time he'd acceded to her wishes but the look of admiration in her eyes had been worth the embarrassment of wearing what he considered a slightly frilly shirt.

Nothing compared to the sight of Leliana in her leathers though, the drakeskin armour they'd acquired from Wade's emporium after their quest for the Sacred Ashes. The way she moved in her armour, the way she moved in general, was something he'd spent a lot of 'quiet time' contemplating. And then, of course, there was Leliana with no clothes at all, her lithe form muscled from exercise, but curved exactly where it should be…

"Aedan!"

He blinked. "Huh?"

Leliana had stepped from his embrace and was holding his hands in front of her, "Where were you?"

He grinned, "Thinking about you naked."

Leliana chuckled softly and leaning forward whispered against his lips, "It's a good thing they did not send female assassins then."

Aedan smiled and kissed her before she could move away again, his hands working free of her fingers to slip behind her once more. With a heavy sigh, he finally stepped back again and simply held her. He needed to talk to her and that wouldn't happen if he continued down this path. He crooked a finger beneath her chin, tilting her face toward his and said, "Leliana, I want you to come with me tomorrow."

"Aedan, I can't, we both know Alistair needs me to stay here, I am doing important work for him."

Aedan scowled and Leliana chuckled, "You look like such a spoilt little boy, Aedan, it does not suit you."

"I will worry about you every day that I am gone."

Leliana looked wistful and she attempted to smooth his frown with her fingers, "I know you will, my Warden, but I can take care of myself. I always have."


	10. Chapter 10

**Amaranthine**

The journey to Amaranthine was uneventful, restful even, as they were not racing to or from battle for a change. Zevran was the ideal traveling companion, attuned to Aedan's moods and requirements – sensing when he wanted to talk or when he needed to just be.

They were accompanied by a contingent of the Denerim city guard, ten men who had all specifically volunteered for what they considered the honour of escorting the King's chancellor, the Warden Commander and the hero of Ferelden to his destination. It was enough to make a man's head spin and Aedan had finally convinced most of them to simply call him 'Warden', or 'Commander' if they must.

The two Orlesian wardens had proved interesting company also. One of the men, Philippe, was cut from the same cloth as the Orlesian commander. He spent the one and only night at camp watching everything Aedan and Zevran did with a calculating expression, prompting many barbs and jests from the elf. The other warden, Jean, was a surprisingly easy going man and after attempting to ignore him that first morning, Aedan eventually warmed to him. He was the younger of the two, perhaps around the same age as Aedan himself, and he was obviously excited by the travel, the experience of a new country and the mission ahead. Aedan had found himself reminiscing on his own journey just over a year ago, the tragedy that had set him on this path, and prayed to the Maker that the young warden may never experience what he had.

As the warmth of the sun began to fade their second day of travel, the travelers crested the final hill and Aedan caught his first glimpse of the former arling of Amaranthine. He caught his breath. He'd been here many times as a child, his family and Howe's having been so close, and was unprepared for the emotional impact of seeing the estate once again. He felt a seething rage building inside him and his head pounded with it. He barked orders at the guard that he wanted to make the estate by sunset and led them down that last slope with his jaw set, his teeth ground together. He could sense Zevran at his side and silently thanked the elf for knowing that now was not the right time to talk.

As the sky began to colour, they made the gates and Aedan was relieved to see that preparations had been made for them. Staff were gathered to meet the travelers, see to their needs and direct everyone to their various accommodations. As soon as he'd finished overseeing arrangements, Aedan turned at a light touch on his arm. Zevran was there, his expression neutral but for one raised brow.

"Perhaps you'd like to work out some of your tension, Warden." He said. Aedan nodded shortly and they excused themselves to the area designated as the practice yard and worked together with and without weapons till they both dripped sweat. Aedan sat heavily on a wooden bench, Zevran flopping only slightly less heavily beside him. He turned and studied the elf before saying quietly, "Thank you, Zev."

Aedan enjoyed his training with Zevran, the assassin had taught him to fight without a sword and dagger and those skills had saved his life more than once. But this evening hadn't been about enjoyment or perfection of form. He'd needed an outlet for his rage and pain, and Zevran had understood that.

Night had deepened as they trained and the companions paused only to wash their hands and faces before joining the rest of the men for dinner.

That first night at Amaranthine Aedan dreamed.

He was in a familiar room, reclined by a warm fire. He could hear the wild wind of a storm pounding the walls, but felt a sense of security in this small place. He knew where he was, he was with Morrigan, though he could barely 'feel' her. All he could feel was an overwhelming sense of tiredness, and so he slept.

Aedan remembered the dream upon waking and took a moment to think about it. He'd not really remembered dreaming of Morrigan in recent weeks, but felt a vague sense of unease. There'd been a dream the night before Alistair's coronation, of that he was sure, but the details were sketchy. He remembered only the hut, the small hearth, the warmth of the fire.

He met Zevran and Jean while scouting out breakfast and the three men spent a convivial half hour in one another's company. They were all eager to start the day, though each for their own reasons. Aedan could sense Zevran's desire to scout the estate, get to know his environment, and Jean's eagerness to get on with Grey Warden business. This was a desire Aedan shared. Philippe was nowhere to be seen, though Jean mentioned the older warden had been awake with the dawn. His whereabouts soon became apparent however, as the sound of a single raised voice wielded with the authority of one used to leading rang out from the courtyard below.

Aedan stepped to the low windows and looked out. The dining room looked out over the central courtyard which was filled with people. Philippe was standing at the centre of the courtyard, his hands held up as he called for order.

Aedan muttered a string of curses and fled the room, followed closely by Zevran and Jean.

Entering the courtyard, he gently elbowed his way through the crowd until he reached the centre. He nodded to Philippe, who scarcely seemed to acknowledge his presence before returning his attention to the crowd and calling again for quiet. He then gestured to Aedan and announced, "The Warden Commander has seen fit to join us." Philippe turned to Aedan and said, loudly enough that most in the courtyard would hear, "Tell us Commander, what are you plans for all these aspiring Grey Wardens?"

Aiming a tense smile at Philippe, Aedan quickly stepped forward, unconsciously mimicking the man's gesture as he held his hands up for silence. Though his mind reeled with the news that all these men and women had come to be Grey Wardens – he'd expected to find the estate nearly deserted and that his time would be spend devising recruitment strategies and training regimens – he'd had just enough time leading the combined armies of Ferelden that instinct kicked in. He called again for order and addressed the assembled crowd.

"Gentleman," he began, adding, "and ladies" as he noticed a group of three young women dressed in matching leather armor, a short handled axe and dagger affixed to each back, near the front of the crowd. The centre one, a willowy blonde with pale grey eyes was smiling directly at him and Aedan froze as he recognised the face, Delilah Howe. Time stood still as Aedan's mind immediately returned to the night he and Delilah had…he could not think about that now. Tearing his eyes from her face Aedan cleared his throat and continued.

"I thank you all for your willingness to defend Ferelden from the darkspawn. It is a noble calling. But know this, despite your eagerness for battle, only the best of you will become Grey Wardens. I encourage you all to train with us and demonstrate your skill. I invite you all to seek out myself, or the wardens Philippe and Jean, that we may come to know your minds." He paused here, looking out over a more somber crowd, "It takes more than skill with a blade to defeat the darkspawn and I would recruit no one who was not prepared to do whatever it takes to end a Blight."

The crowded courtyard erupted into cheers and Aedan noticed perhaps the smallest glint of respect in Philippe's eyes. He nodded to the warden and quickly stepped back through the crowd, having to pause and grasp the hand or arm of this man or that, accepting thanks and congratulations as he made his way back across the courtyard. His guard of ten men were assembled near the open gates and Aedan immediately caught the captain's attention. "Keep order here, Jacob, while I figure out what I'm going to do with all these people."

Aedan spent the day with Philippe drafting training schedules and talking strategy. Although he seemed unable to keep a tinge of disdain from his voice, Philippe was decidedly helpful, pointing out the occasional error in Aedan's thinking and helping him refine his strategies for dealing with so many recruits. It was obvious he was as surprised by the jostling crowd as Aedan had been, and both men barely had time to consider their mutual dislike of one another as they worked.

The guard was set to dividing the recruits into teams and the estate staff was set to overseeing accommodations. Jean didn't seem to mind being used as a messenger boy and was run from one end of the grounds to the other coordinating their efforts. Zevran did what Zevran does. He watched, he listened, and he melted into shadows, combing every inch of the property.

As Aedan finally sat down for a meal at the end of the day, he sighed with weariness. He was in his own room, having felt the need for solitude and quiet. He had so much to think about he did not know where to begin. There was a quiet knock at the door and Zevran slipped into the room, nodding to Aedan before sitting opposite him, letting his head drop against the back of the chair in uncharacteristic lassitude. Aedan grinned at the elf and commented drily, "A day like this, it is only fitting you actually look as tired as I feel for a change."

Zevran returned the smile, "I think I prefer killing darkspawn."

Aedan sighed and rubbed his eyes, then simply rested his head in his hands a moment. When he looked up, Zevran was regarding him curiously. Aedan frowned and said, "This is going to take longer than three weeks, isn't it?"

Zevran simply nodded, as if this was a fact he'd always understood and replied, "They have come for you, Warden, to bask in your glory in the hope it might rub off on them."

Aedan did not respond right away. He'd known this, deep down, though it warred with his natural humility. His thoughts turned to Alistair and he replied quietly to the elf, "If Alistair can be King, I can rebuild the Wardens."

He leaned back in his chair and changed the subject, "So tell me about your day, anything interesting or unusual to report?"

Zevran shrugged lightly, "The estate is a security nightmare, of course, but I have mapped the weakest points and will attempt to rectify this, with your permission of course."

Aedan waved a hand, "Do whatever you think is necessary, Zevran, I trust your judgment."

Zevran nodded thoughtfully, then his expression then turned sly, "So Aedan, who is…or was…this woman, the tall blonde who nearly derailed your fine speech this morning. Remarkable recovery by the way, I am fairly certain only a few people noticed your mouth gaping open like a dying fish!" He was grinning now, his tone banter like.

Aedan felt the familiar flush come to his face and thanked the Maker his rooms were dimly lit. It would not do to show too much embarrassment in front of the elf, though he seriously doubted Zevran had missed it. He cleared his throat and replied, "Delilah Howe."

It was Zevran's turn to look surprised, an expression that did not often cross that face. He recovered his composure more swiftly than Aedan however, and remarked somewhat wistfully, "Ah…a man never truly forgets his first love."

Aedan could only nod absently as his mind stretched back. Delilah Howe, the former Arl of Amaranthine's daughter. Only three years his junior, the two had grown up together, the friendship a natural occurrence – their families had been very close. She had been an awkward girl, always tall, nearly matching him in height in fact, and she'd chafed at her mother's coddling. Eschewing fine dresses and shoes she had favoured the leather armor her father had indulgently had made throughout her adolescence. She and Aedan had become inseparable as children, and though his close friendship with a girl had prompted much teasing from Fergus, he'd defended her honour by saying she was just as good as a boy. Delilah had been, and probably still was, a talented rogue, deft with her two weapons and cunning in strategy.

Then suddenly she'd not been a boy anymore, her long limbs became graceful and her agile figure had acquired curves and Aedan would find himself distracted at odd times by the smell of her wheat coloured hair. He'd begun to flinch when their arms brushed together as they walked and every time they sparred Aedan would find himself pulling blows for fear of hurting her. Delilah had been hurt by his attitude, he could see it in those light grey eyes of hers, and their changing friendship had confused him. They had begun to avoid one another, until that night.

The Couslands were celebrating Oren's fifth birthday and the castle had been full of guests and merriment. The Howes had attended, of course, and the arl's son, Thomas, had escorted Delilah through the gates. Aedan had been greeting guests with his mother when he first caught sight of her. She'd been in a gown of the softest pink, the colour of seashells rather than flowers, embroidered and embellished with hints of pale blue and a creamy white. Her hair was up, away from her face, and her face…she had looked like a young woman, she had looked…beautiful. Aedan's breath had been taken away and he'd instantly fallen in love.

Aedan had followed her attentively all that evening and she had teased him mercilessly, even cruelly at times, over the awkwardness of the previous year. But she had not left his company and this alone had let him know that she was at least willing to forgive him, even perhaps renew their friendship. They'd shared their first kiss that night, as sweet and shy as a first kiss was supposed to be, and in the months that followed they'd shared much more.

Aedan felt tears prick the corner of his eyes as his mind came forward another year, to the night Howe had betrayed his family, then forward once more to the night he'd killed Howe. He had no idea what, if any, part Delilah had played in her father's plans, though he could not bring himself to believe she would willingly betray him. He'd not had the time to fully consider her fate, even as he'd killed her father. His thoughts paused here…he had killed Delilah's father. Aedan groaned and turned his face away from Zevran, flicking a hand in the elf's direction.

"I need to be alone," he whispered.


	11. Chapter 11

Training

The rest of that first week past very quickly, the upside being Aedan had too little time to brood, though every flash of blonde hair gave him pause, the downside being the amount of time he had to spend in the company of Philippe. Aedan found he could not turn around without discovering the Orlesian at his heels. Of course, it seemed Philippe could not turn around without finding Zevran at his own back and he once scowled at the rogue, before asking Aedan testily to assign his 'pet elf' to more interesting duties. Jean appeared shocked at the older warden's lack of tact. Zevran seemed not to take it personally and his observation of the man became more discreet. Only Aedan understood Zevran's deliberate bating of the Philippe, his companion had never lacked subtlety when necessary.

Time was spent equally by Aedan, Philippe and Jean watching the potential recruits sparring and competing in war games devised by Jacob, Aedan's guard captain. When the men and women were not fighting, they eagerly sought the company of all three wardens, peppering them with questions and in some cases relentlessly pursuing the issue of joining the Grey Wardens.

Although he enjoyed the company of Zevran, his guard and to a certain extent the younger Orlesian warden, Aedan felt the absence of Alistair and Leliana. There was plenty to keep his mind engaged but he missed the witty banter that passed the days between the king and himself as they'd debated the finer points of policy and worked to decipher the sometimes archaic language of treaties and trade documents. He knew Alistair was perfectly able to cope without him, the man never forgot a single thing he read and possessed keen deductive reasoning, but he missed the sense of camaraderie they'd shared in working together – first in gathering an army, then in defeating the Blight and most recently in piecing Ferelden back together.

He missed Leliana more ardently. Though his bed was cold at night, he found he missed more than her body against his. He missed her companionship. Leliana lit up a room with her presence, her musical voice able to render the most mundane events interesting. She always had a tale to spin or news to share, her work for Alistair allowing her access to nearly every noteworthy happening in Denerim. Though the bard could find the humour, the tragedy or the romance in every story, she also had an uncanny knack for seeing the heart of a matter, a talent Alistair valued. Aedan worried for her safety, but knew that a swift courier was only a day's ride from Amaranthine. As the days slipped by with no news, he began to rest more easily, though his bed was still cold.

It was on the fourth day that Delilah finally found him alone on the practice field. Philippe and Jean were refereeing another match and Zevran was…wherever Zevran was. There were a few 'teams' of people scattered about the field, practicing drills or sparring amongst themselves as they awaited the opportunity to compete. Aedan was applying himself to his least favourite task, paperwork. It was amazing how much paperwork an army, even one that was not official yet, created. He was poring over lists of names when he heard her approach. He looked up, his ready smile faltering only a little as he saw who stood before him.

He stood, habit causing him to bow slightly toward her, greeting her as "My Lady". Her own tentative smile faded and a shadow passed her eyes as she responded quietly, "Er…not anymore. It's just Delilah now."

Of course, he cursed inwardly, this was not a good start. But try as he might, from that first day onward, he'd not been able to think of a tactful way in which to approach her. Now the matter had been taken from his hands and he found he could only stand dumbly before the girl, the woman, who'd first stolen his heart. Was there any good way to start a conversation with someone whose father he had killed?

He hesitated a moment longer before trying again. "Delilah" he said, and sent thanks to the Maker that his voice didn't crack.

An uncomfortable silence unfolded between the two of them and Aedan suspected that she knew as little how to start as he did. He tried, "I'm sorry…"

At the same time she blurted, "I didn't…"

They both stopped and Aedan put out a hand, "Please, ladies first."

Delilah nodded, her head staying bowed a moment as she studied her feet. When she looked up, her lovely face carried an expression of deep remorse. "Aedan…Commander, I mean…or..."

He was unable to help her as she stumbled on and simply gestured her to continue.

She pressed on, "Aedan, I swear to you I did not know of my father's plans. Thomas did, I think even my mother did, but they knew how I felt about you, I thought we would…" and here she trailed off, her eyes shining with moisture, her smile now gone.

Aedan nodded stiffly as Delilah continued, "When we heard you were alive, father was so furious, he ranted and raved…he was mad, Aedan, like a man possessed! I tried to leave Denerim, to find you. I was caught and confined to my rooms. He imprisoned so many people. The dungeons were filled and not even the stone of the floors and walls could keep the screams at bay."

She shook her head and went on, "and then he locked away the queen, Aedan, the queen! He dared too much. Had I not been confined myself, so many guards…" her hands shook with her fury. She looked up at him, "You were there, that last day, I heard your voice in the main hall when Cauthrien confronted you, when she accused you of…"

Aedan had been changed forever the day he killed Howe. Despite the months of battle, the bandits, blood mages, and darkspawn he had slain, nothing had compared to the cold rage with which he had taken the former arl's life. It had taken all three of his companions – Alistair, Wynne and Zevran to pull him from Howe's prone form, the dead man's axe gripped in his bloody hands. Wynne had looked shocked, Alistair had been very quiet and even the former assassin had looked disturbed. Something inside him had broken, and when Ser Cauthrien had confronted him at the gates he'd simply laid down his weapons, much to the surprise and consternation of Alistair. The two wardens had been imprisoned in Fort Drakon. There he had lain in a stupor of self loathing and remorse for two days before Alistair had finally resorted to knocking sense into him.

Aedan looked up to find Delilah still standing before him. He knew it would never make up for all that had passed between them, but he tried anyway, "Delilah…it's true, I was there that day. I killed your father."

Although her eyes widened, just a little, it was more at his confession than his words, he realized. She already knew the truth and quickly confirmed it, "I know."

She continued, "I'm not here to cause trouble, Aedan, my mother does not know where I am. I came to fight…the darkspawn. I came to fight for Ferelden, to atone for what my father…did." She nearly spat the last word.

He believed her, and as he watched her tremble with her grief and fury he ached to hold her. It would take just two steps. Even in her dusty leathers, her hair pulled back and her face streaked with tears she was still beautiful and he found it hard to focus on her face as it was here, now, without remembering it as it had been the night he'd first fallen for her.

He offered a quiet, "Thank you," and hesitated, before adding, "I am sorry for your loss."

Her brows rose in surprise, and she opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She closed it, and then tried again. "As am I, Aedan, more than you may ever know."

He took a step forward then and she met him with a step of her own and they held one another. She was as tall as he'd remembered, tall enough to put her cheek on his shoulder and he pulled her close, his arms wrapping completely around her slender form as she proceeded to sob into his shirt.

Over her shoulder he saw Philippe walking toward him across the field and he cursed inwardly. He put his hands on Delilah's shoulders and stepped back to put some distance between them, and said quietly. "We will talk more later, alright?"

She wiped her face with her hands, spun on her heel, left in the opposite direction and Aedan turned to greet Philippe.

The older warden's face carried a look of contempt as he said, "Some recruits are taking the training a little harder than others I see."

As Aedan fold his arms across his chest and uttered a resigned sigh, Philippe pressed on, "Will you comforting every recruit in such a manner, or simply the pretty ones?"

Aedan ground his teeth together a moment before choosing to simply ignore the man, asking, "Did you need something Philippe?"

As usual, Philippe wanted to check over Aedan's paperwork, nit-picking Aedan's methods and organization. Aedan resigned himself to another long afternoon of mental battle with the man.

By the end of the week, the pace of each day had become measured and regulated by schedule of sorts. A few recruits had given up on their dreams, being either consistently out-maneuvered in training or cowed by a warden's description of an actual darkspawn. Another handful had sustained injuries, sometimes stupidly, and were sent away to recover or simply weigh their options. The teams had been reshuffled with temporary ranks and began to function as recognizable units in the mock battles and games devised for them.

Aedan had had the opportunity to talk with Delilah a number of times and they had taken up a cautious friendship, one marked by a familiar banter and the occasional furtive look, none of which was lost on Zevran. He approached Aedan one afternoon ostensibly to hear his side of the story, but Aedan could feel the unspoken warning and respected the elf's concerns. He resolved to keep his distance from Delilah, but often found himself watching for that flash of blonde hair when her team took to the field.

The end of the first week also brought a courier from Denerim. This was by prior arrangement, however, and after an overnight rest, the man was dispatched back to the city with a pouch full of letters and reports from Aedan and his men. Aedan retired early that night, a letter from Leliana held reverently in one hand as though it were a treasured artifact. Zevran left him in peace.

--=0=--

Alistair found himself seeking Oghren's company the day after Aedan left. The dwarf was no fool, however, and after entertaining the king for a while would send him off with a gruff, "Go mope somewhere else for a while, I got an army to command."

Alistair was restless after that and wandered the palace surprising staff and the occasional guard as he sought to walk out his mood. His meeting with Eamon had been…interesting. He understood the arl's reasoning – he was only expected to live perhaps another twenty eight years and in order to preserve the Theirin bloodline he required an heir. A legitimate one would be highly preferable. He did not care for the task of merely choosing a suitable candidate, however, it was too…cold. If the rest of his life was to be given to duty he asked of Eamon a simple boon: Give him a year, just one year to find his place, without being hounded to reproduce. After some persuasion, the arl had agreed, but not before commenting that throughout that year Alistair would have plenty of opportunities to mingle with the nobility of Ferelden, and that he should always keep his eyes open.

Alistair had rolled his eyes at that and taken a distinct pleasure in being able to dismiss the older man from his company, a gesture Eamon took in good humour.

As his wanderings finally led him back to his study, he nearly walked into Leliana, who had been leaving a message for him. He invited her in, indicated a chair to her and sat down behind his desk.

He launched straight in to business, "What do you have for me?"

"The Orlesian Commander and the remaining two wardens left for Orlais this morning, as we expected. I have come to talk to you about this man, this Damien Fournier."

Alistair nodded, eager for information about the man, "You said you met him before?"

Leliana continued, "Yes, he has not been a Grey Warden for long, Alistair, and yet he is Commander in Orlais. This disturbs me."

The commander had met with Alistair alone the day before and had pressed him again on the issue of Aedan's miraculous survival. Alistair had taken distinct offense at the man's insinuation that he would betray a fellow warden and reveal a 'secret'. He'd repeated Aedan's tactic, the simple shrug and denial, not caring what the Orlesian thought of his apparent naiveté.

"There is a lot about Damien Fournier that disturbs me…he was a chevalier before?"

Leliana went on, "Yes, talented in battle and from a prominent family much in favour with the Empress, I think it is no mere coincidence that he now controls a veritable army, one that does not necessarily answer to any country."

Alistair was thoughtful a moment before he replied, "I agree, but the Wardens of Orlais were prepared to help us defend against the Blight, if only the word had been sent. Now that the arch demon is slain, however, and Ferelden finds itself with only two Grey Wardens…" he paused here as he considered the various implications, "let us hope Aedan is successful in his recruitment efforts."

A shadow passed Leliana's face at the mention of her beloved warden and Alistair waited patiently for her to continue. She composed herself instantly and briskly reported on other matters he'd had her investigating. The woman was an asset – though she may succeed in fooling strangers and the noble circles he had her moving through that she was merely a talented minstrel and companion to the Chancellor – both he and Aedan appreciated her quick mind and her cunning ear. Alistair never ceased to be amazed at the information she gathered or the truth she was able to distill from rumour and gossip.

They finished their meeting and Alistair returned his attention to the business of being king, which today, included more documents to peruse.


	12. Chapter 12

Darkspawn

Aedan dreamed:

The scene was still and so very bright, the only sound the crunch of his own footsteps over icy snow. He was climbing a steep path, the snow swept into high drifts against the trees lining each side, sometimes exposing the wooden beams that had been set into the earth for traction. Except for the work of the wind, the path had not been cleared or traveled in some time. He paused to look up, the mist of his warm breath puffing into the cold air before his face. There was a break in the trees just ahead as the path appeared to crest the hill. He felt a sense of wellness and was enjoying the mild exertion of the climb. He'd been cooped up too long waiting for the storm to pass.

As he gained the top of the path, a village square opened before him and there was that nagging sense of familiarity again. He turned his head about, noting that the houses seemed deserted, more mounds of snow were piled against disused doorways and shuttered windows. To his right the path continued up another hill, heading further into the mountains, to his left it wandered through the village to a small dock which overlooked a frozen lake. He turned right and continued up the path a vague idea forming of checking the view from the top.

This path had been more protected from the wind and he had to pause often, testing the depth of the snow with his staff before simply wading through the more shallow drifts. He finally reached the top and before him stood a large building…a chantry? He remembered this building, though it had not been half hidden by snow the last time he'd been here. Where was he? He walked around the side of the building to take in the view he sought. It was breathtaking. To his right the mountain continued to incredible heights, the peak obscured by passing clouds. To his left he could see back down over the village, the small dock, the lake, and down the mountain path into the foothills. Breathtaking indeed.

He returned to the front of the building and leaned upon the heavy wooden doors. With a protest of disused hinges one door cracked open and he slipped inside. It was dim and cold. The windows were small and high, letting in very little light. There were candles to the left and he fumbled to light one, not willing to shed his mittens until he found some warmth.

He spent some time exploring the deserted chantry. It consisted of a large main hall and two side rooms, one to either side of the altar. The right hand side comprised a library and he flipped through a few volumes and opened one or two drawers out of curiosity before returning to the main hall and proceeding to explore the room to the left. This area included a bedroom, a study and a small fire place. He immediately set to lighting a fire, then shed his cloak and mittens and pulled a blanket from the bed to wrap about his shoulders as he sat to warm himself.

Sitting before the fire evoked more memories and he began to experience the feeling of déjà vu. He felt a stirring in his gut, and heard a gasp of surprise. It had felt as if his stomach had flipped over. He put his hands over his belly and looked down. Morrigan's hands. He was not as surprised this time, he'd come to recognise the sensation of traveling with her and found himself more alarmed at the odd sensation in 'their' gut.

"And there he is. Did you feel him Aedan? That was our child, he has discovered himself and he moves! He is growing a little more every day." Morrigan said. Her hands moved over her belly in a soft caress and Aedan could feel the slight thickness her middle had acquired, a rounding of the stomach that was just noticeable.

Morrigan continued to talk to him, sounding almost…conversational. "We weathered the storm together and now we will thrive. T'will not be long now, perhaps before the summer."

She paused and the familiar push began, "You should not keep checking up on me, you know…" she sounded wistful as she faded away.

Aedan sat upright in bed and clutched at his middle, a vague sense of nausea gripping him. His hands felt only the taught expanse of muscle that was his own stomach, yet he felt no relief. Swinging his legs from under the blanket, he got up and stumbled to his desk. He poured himself a cup of water, his hands shaking, and drank quickly, attempting to wash away the bile rising in his throat. He swallowed once, twice and took a tentative breath. The dizziness and sickness slowly passed and he sat heavily in the chair beside him.

He could not gather his thoughts for a while as his mind presented flashes of the path, the village, the deserted chantry, then kept returning to the sensation in Morrigan's belly, the child, his child. Finally it clicked and he dropped the cup he was holding, starting as it hit the floor with a loud clatter. He knew where Morrigan was…she was in Haven.

He stooped to pick up the cup and glanced at the windows. The sun was well up and he was surprised the sound of voices from the courtyard below and the clatter of weapons from the practice field had not woken him sooner. Dashing his face with water, he donned a loose shirt and pants before setting to the task of fastening on his armour.

He'd been in Amarathine nearly a month now and knew he'd chanced to sleep in on the one day a week he wasn't scheduled for a morning workout with the recruits. The number of recruits has steadily shrunk over the past couple of weeks which did not greatly displease any of the three wardens. Of those that remained, five had fought darkspawn before defending their own land from the encroaching Blight and these men were seasoned and hardened, not likely to give up. He was ready to offer them each a place with the Grey Wardens.

The remaining recruits comprised eight men and two women, Delilah and the elven maid she'd arrived with. Aedan knew the girl, she had been in the employ of the Howe family her entire life probably, and was especially close with Delilah. He'd been surprised the first time he'd seen her fight – the two women obviously spent a lot of time sparring together and were of nearly equal skill. He idly wondered if either of the elder Howes had known their daughter had been teaching one of her maids to fight, and grinned.

His own friendship with Delilah had grown into an easy camaraderie. There had been the occasional awkward moment such as when they had been reminiscing in front of Zevran and Kayley, the elven girl. The particular incident they'd been remembering had happened the same day they had finally made love for the first time. Afterwards he and Delilah had exchanged an interesting look, one noticed by both Zevran and Kayley. The only moment more uncomfortable than this had been when he had told Delilah about Leliana. It had been a difficult conversation, not one he had intended to have, but women had a way of bringing up subjects men would rather leave untouched.

She'd sat beside him as the wardens and recruits relaxed in the hall one evening and asked if he would take a walk with her. Sensing she had something to say and that she wanted privacy, he agreed and they slipped out into the courtyard, heading for the practice field.

Once they had passed the gates, she'd laid a hand on his arm and he turned. She looked shy all of a sudden and he'd guessed she was going to tell him she was leaving, that she no longer wanted to be a Grey Warden. That was something he would have understood.

Instead she came out with, "Aedan…do you ever think about what might have happened, had things been different?"

He raised his brows in surprise and replied, "Different? You mean the Blight, or…" he trailed off, gesturing with his hand. They both knew he meant – before your father murdered my family and then I killed your father.

She shrugged lightly and said, "Well, both."

He thought a minute, scratching the side of his head, he'd taken to cropping his black hair short against his scalp again, it was more comfortable in his helm than the thick waves he'd inherited from this mother.

"I suppose things might have continued as they were, though the Blight was already underway when…I would have been called up to fight eventually I think."

She rolled her eyes and smiled, "Always thinking with your sword," she said and batted him lightly on the shoulder.

He smiled and caught her hand, holding it a moment before releasing her fingers. He asked, "What's on our mind?"

"I was talking about us, Aedan. We were, well I always assumed we'd be married." She blushed a little and hurried on, "Our families certainly seemed to approve, we were left alone in one another's company often enough." She grinned and winked at him and he couldn't help grinning back as he remembered just how often they'd managed time alone in the year before everything had changed.

Aedan's grin faltered a little as he finally realized what Delilah had been asking. He saw that she was looking intently at him and he shifted his gaze to his feet. Taking a deep breath, he tried to spell out his thoughts, hoping to make this as clean as possible. He took her hand and began, "Delilah, there is no doubt in my mind that we…" he stopped.

She looked so hopeful that he hesitated before starting again, "Delilah, my heart is in Denerim with a woman who has become very dear to me, and though our friendship is a great joy, it cannot be more. I love another." Leliana. He missed Leliana so much it was sometimes a physical sensation. Her weekly letters, while wonderfully entertaining and completely endearing, were a meager substitute.

Delilah extracted her hand from his and stepped back. She was quiet and her face was sad, regretful even, but she was composed. She nodded and said, "I understand," and walked slowly away.

Aedan had worried that the renewed friendship would suffer, but surprisingly the next day Delilah, though quiet, was as amicable as ever. She only referred to their conversation once, pausing by his side that afternoon to say quietly, "She is a lucky woman, I wish you both well." They had nodded to one another and Delilah had moved off to resume her duties.

Aedan's mind came back to the present as he finished with the last of his armour. He picked up his weapons and stepped into the hall. After grabbing some sweet rolls from the kitchen he strode outside just a fast courier appeared at the gates. He found himself swallowing back bile for the second time that day, his thoughts racing quickly to the worst news he could imagine first: Something had happened to Leliana.

The news was dire. The Western Hills, which had been nearly decimated during the Blight, was still suffering from recurring darkspawn attacks and Arl Wulff had urgently petitioned Denerim for assistance. Alistair had sent word to Amaranthine hoping the wardens could meet Oghren on the road and help not only eradicate the vicious band of darkspawn, but discover why they were still in the area.

Aedan sent runners to every corner of the estate and returned to his study to pen a quick response to Alistair. He planned to be on the road to the Western Hills that very day.


	13. Chapter 13

The Western Hills

Aedan relayed last minute instructions to Jacob. He was leaving the ten man contingent at Amaranthine to keep order and deal with any recruits that might trickle in, as he expected to meet up with Oghren and his men before they reached the Western Hills. He looked over his shoulder and noted that Philippe, Jean, Zevran the ten most fit recruits were assembled and ready to leave.

The sun was barely at its zenith when they left Amaranthine and he was not the only one impressed by this feat. Philippe had dropped his usual critical manner and actually complimented the recruits on their attitude. They traveled hard and made camp before the sun set. The next day would be a full day of travel and Aedan advised everyone to get in as much sleep as possible as he toured the camp, handing out watch assignments.

The wardens made an early start the next morning, which dawned dark and overcast. Aedan pushed the band to put as much distance behind them as they could before the rain hit. As it was, they were only able to travel half the day before they were driven to seek shelter by wild wind and lightening. Damp tents were pitched and everyone did their best to find dry clothing in their packs. There was a lot of huddling and shivering throughout the afternoon as the storm raged on. Aedan napped. He'd learned to grab sleep where he could and found the sound of the rain outside his tent all the inducement he needed to drift off.

When he awoke the rain had stopped, but the thunder was still rolling in the distance. He could hear the steady dripping of rain from gear and tree branches, the low hum of voices and the welcome crackle of a fire. He emerged from his tent to find Zevran entertaining Delilah and Kayley with a story from his time with the Crows. It sounded like that second mission, the one where Zevran had fallen in the river. Aedan shook his head and smiled as he moved toward the fire. He warmed his hands and listened to the rest of the story. Zevran finished up and stood, moving to Aedan's side.

"What say you?" Zevran asked and the very sound of his voice accompanied by the quiet sound of an evening camp transported Aedan back a year. Aedan looked down as his friend and said, "Takes you back, doesn't it? The camp, the fire, the fear of darkspawn lurking behind every tree..."

They shared a smile. Aedan asked, "What is everyone up to, have we set a watch?" He looked to the red steak of sky across the horizon, the only sun they'd seen all day finally escaping beneath the band of storm clouds.

Zevran replied, "This is first watch, I am to wake Jean and Eric when I retire."

Aedan nodded and said, "Why don't you get some sleep now, I'll take your place." He stretched his hands up over his head, hearing his back pop a little as he did so. "I've been asleep all afternoon anyway."

Zevran nodded and melted away into the gathering dusk and Aedan stepped toward the log the girls were leaning against and sat next to Delilah. He leaned back and closed his eyes again, enjoying the warmth of the fire until Delilah poked him in the ribs and whispered, "Hey, sleepy head, I thought you were keeping watch."

He turned his head and smiled at her, whispering in return, "I was watching the inside of my eyelids. Why are we whispering?"

She tipped her head to the other side and he leaned around her to look at Kayley. The girl was slumped against the log with her eyes closed and her mouth open a little – asleep. He leaned back and grinned at Delilah, and said quietly "I thought Zev's stories were more exciting than that."

They sat quietly for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts, until Aedan wondered if Delilah had fallen asleep too. He turned to look at her and noticed her shivering. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. She seemed about to resist, then softened and leaned against his side, resting her head against his shoulder with a quiet, "Mm, you're warm."

Aedan was staring at the fire with his gaze unfocussed, just letting his mind wander again when Delilah whispered, "Do you remember when our fathers took us on that overnight hunt and we sat at the campfire just like this?"

He nodded gently and she went on, "I was so excited to be included, my mother was furious!" Aedan could hear the amusement in her voice. Delilah had so loved to defy her mother. She shivered again and her tone had changed as she continued, "Tell me about the darkspawn, Aedan, are they truly frightening?"

Aedan hugged her closer to him a minute as he composed his response. "The darkspawn are terrifying, I won't lie to you, but they die just like anything else." He paused and tilted his head to look at her, "Hold to your training 'Lilah, focus on your weapons and your skills, work with your companions. I know it doesn't sound like much, but it's what I do, it's what pulls me through every battle."

He had forgotten that he'd used to call her Lilah until the name slipped from his lips. He suddenly became aware of her body pressed close to his and remembered well the last person he'd held this close had been Leliana. They'd often kept watch together, snuggled before the fire. Oghren had been convinced they would all be slaughtered overnight while Aedan and Leliana 'canoodled' as he'd called it.

He glanced down at Delilah and found she was looking up at him, her face inches from his. His eyes traveled to her lips, then back to those soft grey eyes of hers, a face so familiar and yet different at the same time. He could see in her eyes that if he kissed her, she would not back away. The moment seemed to stretch on forever.

Aedan caught his breath and lifted his arm from her shoulders, straightening his back before pushing up from the log, standing quickly. He held out a hand to her, lifting her to her feet and said gruffly, "Getting a good night's sleep is just as important. Why don't you turn in?"

She gave him a curious look and seemed to be about to say something else, before simply replying, "Goodnight Aedan, and thank you." She knelt to rouse Kayley and the two went to find their tent.

Aedan sat alone before the fire quite a while longer before he went to wake the next watch and retired to his own tent.

They met Oghren on the road late the next afternoon. He was traveling with a small band of five men. He and Aedan clapped each other on the shoulder and even Zevran appeared genuinely pleased to see the dwarf again. Introductions where exchanged and the entire company formed up and continued toward the Western Hills. They decided to break for camp a little early that night so that they would reach their destination late the next morning with a good night's sleep behind them.

The mood at camp that night was markedly more jovial than the previous evening and though there was ale about, the men and women drank only modest amounts. With the exception the five raw recruits, they had all faced darkspawn before and were mindful of having clear heads in the morning. Aedan, Oghren and Zevran spent much of the evening together exchanging stories and news. Oghren had another letter from Leliana and Aedan devoured it like a man starved, much to the amusement of his companions. As he folded the sheet, he turned to Oghren and asked quietly, expecting to be teased, but asking anyway, "How does she fare?"

Oghren smiled and took pity on him, replying simply, "She is well, Warden, and she misses you. Of course she has that pesky hound of yours for company." Aedan's mabari, Jack, had literally adopted Leliana, which was unusual, but had only reinforced Aedan's initial good opinion of the woman – if the hound liked her, that was good enough for him. He was glad to know she had Jack watching over her. Aedan nodded and excused himself, slipping into his tent before taking the letter out again, reading it beginning to end.

Next morning the mood was more subdued and the conversation crisp and business like as the wardens made plans. They were two or three hours away from the last known sighting of darkspawn. Aedan and Philippe conferred with Oghren and it was agreed they would send four of their most raw recruits and Jean with Oghren and his more seasoned men, neatly splitting the small army into two units of ten each. Aedan was sure to include Delilah and Kayley in the exchange, not trusting himself to stay impartial to their position during battle. They designated a rallying point on the other side of Arl Wulff's lands. Aedan and Oghren grasped each other by the forearm, before Aedan addressed the assembled forces with a simple, "Maker watch over you."

He turned to his own company and signaled them to move out and the army parted ways, one to either side of the highway. They had been traveling through the forest for three hours before Aedan felt the presence of darkspawn. He glanced over at Philippe and the older warden nodded at him. He'd felt them too. He silently indicated the change of direction to his men and they formed up before creeping to the top of a low ridge. Spread below them was a darkspawn camp, a large darkspawn camp. By all appearances, they were well entrenched – they'd set up a forge and barricades and rudimentary shelters. They had been here for some time.

Aedan signaled them all to pull out their bows, figuring ten, or if they were lucky, twenty shots would thin the ranks of darkspawn before they entered the fray. At his mark, the men loosed their first arrows and many of them got off a second shot, wounding perhaps eleven of the darkspawn before switching to their melee weapons and charging down the slope. As had become their habit, Aedan and Zevran fought together, often flanking the same target. Their tactic had always been to back up Alistair, allowing his sword and shield to deflect the strongest foe while they cleaned up around him. As Philippe engaged the alpha hurlock, Aedan and Zevran reprised their roles, dancing behind him and before him, deflecting blows and stunning archers. The rest of the men split similarly into groups of three and four, a shield and sword warrior the centre of each knot of men, and they fell into the rhythm of swing, parry, duck and swing again.

The battle was loud, furious and short. Though they had been outnumbered by more than two to one, Aedan had not taken the time to either consider the odds, or how such a large band of darkspawn had come together. He fought and blocked, wincing and ducking as a huge hammer whistled past his helm. They had no mages and no healers at their disposal and this spurred on their swift pace, they needed to do as much damage in the shortest possible time in order to avoid being too heavily wounded.

Aedan took a blow to his side and swiftly turned, winded, but able to lift his sword enough to deflect the follow up. He slipped his dagger under the genlock's guard and thrust it upwards, aiming for the gap between the creature's armour and helm. He stepped back, drew in a pained breath and crossed his blades behind another darkspawn, neatly decapitating it. Blinking the resultant spray of blood from his eyes, he sought his next target and found it, a hurlock racing up behind Philippe. Then Zevran was there, spinning through the air and landing neatly behind the hurlock, his twin blades flurrying at its back, biting through armor and downing the creature.

Aedan was sure he heard someone whisper his name and he turned, just in time to avoid a massive double-sided axe, the weapon raising sparks from his shoulder armour with a screech of metal. He stepped back, stunned and raised his weapons, crossed, to try and catch the upswing as the axe swung back toward him. He stopped the axe, but was thrown back by the impact, landing on the dirt with a crash. He immediately drew his knees up and shot his legs out at the towering hurlock, knocking it off balance long enough to regain his feet. Zevran slipped behind the large darkspawn and began spinning, his blades catching Aedan's target and three others in crippling strikes. The pair worked to finish them off before taking a breath and checking on Philippe's position. The Orlesian stood a short distance away, looking faintly stunned, then turned to brace his foot on the chest of a dead genlock, grasping his sword and extricating it from the dead body.

The last darkspawn was dispatched and the men began to regroup. Aedan did a quick head count. Seven, eight…his eyes began to scan the ground. There, one of unseasoned recruits pinned to the ground by a darkspawn axe. Aedan picked his way over the carnage and grasping the axe, pulled it from the young man's chest. He knelt beside the body and checked for a pulse and found none. He looked further and found the other missing man lying against a tree with his hands clutched to his middle where his armour had been cleaved open. He was a mess. Struggling to keep his face impassive, Aedan did what he could for the man and helped him to his feet. Mages, they needed mages…a wound like this was too grave for simple bandages and poultices. The company was gathered on the far side of the camp and they moved out together, traveling for perhaps half an hour before Aedan called a halt and allowed them to rest, clean their wounds and weapons and eat, if they could.

They continued their patrol throughout the afternoon, the men taking turns carrying the body and helping the wounded recruit limp along until he finally passed out. They were only a half hour from the designated camp and Aedan shouldered the burden the rest of the way. When they arrived at the camp, Oghren was already there and by the condition of his armor and men, it was obvious they had seen darkspawn as well. Aedan slipped the recruit from his shoulder, directing him to lie down and looked around until he saw where the dead were being buried. He took up their dead man and carried the body over, placing it reverently next to the two from Oghren's company and stood a moment, contemplating all three of the faces. Two recruits and one of Alistair's army, three men dead. Offering a prayer to the Maker, Aedan turned to help with the wounded. As he walked around the camp he realized he had not seen Delilah and he began to feel a rising panic as he searched the faces of the wounded and their attendants with no success.

He finally spotted her and realized why he had not recognised her sooner, her hair was dark with blood and grime, but she appeared unharmed. She crouched over Kayley, binding the elf's arm with linen strips. He dropped to his knees beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Delilah looked up and her face crumpled. He slipped his arms around her and held her close and she trembled against him. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head, sweaty and blood stained as it was, he couldn't get any filthier, and then disengaged himself to look in on the rest of the wounded. Three men were severely wounded and though all possible was being done, they most likely would not make it through the night. Mages, they needed mages! He thought wistfully of Wynne, her sure hand and steady company, and shook his head sadly. He needed to send word back to Alistair with Oghren, find out what the king could do.

He finally stood, dropping the limp hand of the last wounded man and found Philippe waiting beside him. The older warden tipped his head to the edge of the clearing and Aedan followed him, his gut clenching as he mentally prepared for whatever criticisms the Orlesian had for him. To his utter surprised Philippe stuck out his hand and when Aedan returned the gesture, the man gripped his forearm tightly and said, "The hero of Ferelden," he paused and shook his head slowly, "Damien was wrong about you. I don't know how you survived the arch demon, but if what I saw today is any indication of your dedication to the fight, let me just say, I am not surprised you did."

Aedan opened his mouth to speak, but Philippe held up a hand and continued, "We took losses today, yes, but I had expected more. You have trained these men well, you are a worthy Commander, Brother." He paused here, then continued, " I know we do not often see eye to eye, but this was my task…Damien believed you had survived through some," he shrugged, "dumb luck, as you say, but I think I begin to see the truth. You Fereldens are a dedicated people." With that, Philippe bowed before him then turned and walked away. Aedan could only stand and gape a few moments, before following him back to camp.

He sought out Oghren and listened as the dwarf described their battle – it had been remarkably similar to their own. Two camps full of darkspawn so close to one another, it was horrifying that they'd been able to become so entrenched. They needed to set up more regular patrols. They needed more Grey Wardens. He discreetly asked after Delilah and Kayley and their role in the battle and Oghren raised his brows, commenting, "Aren't you the sly one, and here I thought you and the bard had eyes only for each other."

"Delilah is the daughter of Rendon Howe."

Oghren looked blank.

"The Rendon Howe I killed in Denerim, the man that murdered my family."

Understanding began to creep across Oghren's face as Aedan finally added, "We grew up together, we were…friends for a very long time before…" he spread his hands and Oghren nodded.

"She did fine, Warden, spitfire with that axe and dagger, I'd not like to sneak up behind 'er. The little one, the elf, she took a bad blow, but she'll mend. I'll keep an eye on 'em for ya, don't you worry." The dwarf patted his arm and moved off to oversee his men.

The three badly wounded died in the night. Delilah and Kayley were a little pale and withdrawn in the morning, but donned their armour and weapons with the rest of the men as they prepared to spend another day scouting the woods for darkspawn. Aedan, Philippe and Jean had conferred and they'd felt nothing throughout the night and they hoped that the same would hold true for the day. Aedan made a point of catching Delilah before she left with Oghren's men, taking her hand and saying quietly, "You look out for Kayley and I'll see you both this evening, alright?"

She offered a tight smile and a nod and turned to follow her company through the woods. They planned to sweep a wider circle today, further from the road, ending back where they had camped two nights ago. If all was clear, they would part ways the next day, Oghren heading for Denerim and Aedan for Amaranthine.

The day proved completely uneventful and when they caught up with Oghren, he reported only one minor skirmish – it appeared they'd caught up with a group of three darkspawn fleeing the previous day's battle. No more dead, no more wounded. After a somber night at camp, they separated the next morning, Oghren minus two men, Aedan down four recruits. Oghren had a pouch of letters to deliver and managed to grumble about not being a 'sodding courier' before grasping first Zevran's then Aedan's arms and bidding them farewell. Just as he was about out of ear shot, the dwarf turned and called over his shoulder, "I'll be sure to give that girl of yours a great big hug for you!" and his face creasing in a lewd wink, he turned back to the road and ordered his men forward.

Aedan and his company set out for Amaranthine.


	14. Chapter 14

The Joining

Alistair finished stuffing the last of his socks into his pack and looked around his room, making sure he'd not forgotten anything. He was full of anticipation, excitement and a small curl of dread. He was eager to leave Denerim and visit Amaranthine. He devoured reports and letters from Aedan the moment they landed on his desk and though his friend wrote clearly, his reports were too concise for Alistair's tastes. He longed to see for himself the rebuilding of the Grey Wardens. He had mixed feelings regarding the upcoming joining, however. As much as Ferelden needed more Grey Wardens, he knew not all of the recruits would survive the ritual. Aedan's last letter detailing the fatalities in the Western Hills had been bleak. When it came to the death of an innocent, the men were of the same mind and he felt the losses as Aedan had.

Leliana, and the mage, Taren, joined him as he exited the palace. Taren had expressed interest in joining the Grey Wardens. Alistair, having received Aedan's urgent plea, had thanked the mage and encouraged him to travel to Amaranthine with them. Standing behind them was the ten man squad he was not allowed to leave the city, or even the palace, without. Oghren was standing at the foot of the stairs barking last minute instructions to the men. He would be staying in Denerim with the rest of the army. Arl Eamon was also waiting quietly nearby. Alistair stepped over to the man he considered family and grasped his shoulder. "See you in a week, Eamon."

The arl nodded and patted Alistair's arm in return. "Give my regards to the Chancellor."

Alistair smiled at Aedan's other title and how little the man had wanted it. Despite his protests, Aedan was a good advisor. Having been raised a noble there were a lot of things he innately understood. Things Alistair was learning now under Eamon's careful guidance. In idle moments he toyed with the fantasy of ordering Aedan back to Denerim as chancellor so that he could take up the mantle of Warden Commander for a while.

Their journey to Amaranthine was pleasant, the weather mild. Leliana, as was her way, entertained the party with stories and when at camp with songs. Afterwards they sat companionably together by the campfire and she spoke to him quietly of the last gossip she'd heard before leaving the city. Listening to her melodious voice against the backdrop of night sounds and the crackling of the fire, he felt a longing for the remainder of his companions of the previous year. From Sten they'd had no word, nor did they expect any. He wondered if they'd ever see the Qunari again. There had been no letters from Wynne either, though Alistair was hardly surprised. She and the golem, Shale, had had a long journey ahead of them. It was likely they would return themselves before any correspondence.

He glanced across the fire at a break in the wooded copse and guessed that might have been were Morrigan would have set herself up. He had been startled to get Aedan's letter about Morrigan. He knew his friend had been having odd dreams, but hadn't really paid a lot of attention to them. He smiled to himself…Leliana talked of visions as well, he'd supposed it was something the pair had in common. But the dream he'd written about had an odd clarity to it and Alistair couldn't help suspecting Aedan might be on to something. If Morrigan was in Haven they could organize a party to keep tabs on her and…the child.

Leliana had fallen silent and he turned to look at her. She was staring dreamily into the fire and he thanked the Maker she hadn't noticed is inattentiveness. The bard was easy company and he'd enjoyed the chance to get to know her better over the past month – even if she couldn't help but tease him over every stray glance he might give a nicely dressed lady. He was supposed to be on the lookout for a wife, was he not?

She had been unusually quiet of late though. He'd hesitated to ask if she simply missed Aedan or if something else was bothering her, and felt acutely his lack of comfort around women. He hoped this visit to Amaranthine and her beloved warden would be all that was required to restore her sunny disposition. With that thought he touched her lightly on the shoulder and said good night before making his way to his tent.

The party arrived at Amaranthine just as the sun was setting the next day. As they crested the last hill and followed the road to the main gates, Alistair couldn't help but be impressed with what he saw. In the month and a half Aedan and his men had been here, the place had been cleaned up and restored. The road was in good repair and the well lit estate looked inviting in the fading daylight. A shield had been mounted above the main gate bearing same Grey Warden crest as Aedan's Armour. From the pristine condition of it, Alistair guessed it was in fact Aedan's shield as the warrior much preferred the weight of a blade in either hand.

Two guards were stationed at the gate and as they approached, Alistair noticed a small crowd had formed in the courtyard beyond. The welcoming party…lovely…he couldn't go anywhere without being king these days it seemed. But his face broke into a grin the instant he caught sight of the Warden Commander. Aedan stood in the centre of the gates. Six weeks without Leliana's astute eye for fashion and the warrior looked much as he had when they'd been on the road last year. His black hair was short again and his clothes barely serviceable. It was odd how someone raised as a noble could care so little for their appearance, but that was Aedan. Though his face wore an easy grin, Alistair didn't miss the shadows in his light blue eyes…his friend looked about as overwhelmed as he'd felt in the city. They were both shouldering heavy burdens. Aedan strode forward and clasped his arms and then surprised him by pulling him into a hug. He returned the gesture realising the warden must have missed him just as much as he'd missed his friend.

Aedan stepped back, looking a little self-conscious, cleared his throat and said formally, "Welcome to Amaranthine, Your Majesty."

Alistair smiled and said, "It is my pleasure to be here, Commander."

The two men grinned at each other again and then Aedan turned to introduce him to the small crowd in the courtyard. Alistair stepped past Aedan to greet Zevran with nearly as much enthusiasm. The elf smiled widely at him, his tone familiarly jovial as dipped his head and said, "Your Majesty." He then acknowledged the two Orlesian wardens and was in turn welcomed to Amaranthine by Jacob and the rest of his guard. He took the time to meet each of the assembled recruits, remembering with a sad little jolt how Cailan had performed the same duty at Ostagar.

Alistair then turned to look for Aedan, eager to get settled and catch up on news. When his eyes found the warden, he smiled softly to himself – he might have to wait a while on that front. Aedan and Leliana were standing in the shadow of the main gate, just a little apart from the crowd. They faced one another, holding hands, and were staring wordlessly into one another's faces. As he watched, Aedan stepped in and pulled the woman into a crushing hug, holding her so close that Alistair began do doubt her ability to breathe. At a light touch to his arm he turned away, slightly embarrassed at having seen such a private moment, and followed Jacob inside the main hall.

--=0=--

Aedan did not feel the slightest guilt at having deprived the hall of Leliana's talents the previous night. Though he'd been overjoyed to see Alistair again, and nearly as equally pleased to see Taren – especially upon learning the young mage's ambition to become a Grey Warden – nothing had compared to what he'd felt at seeing Leliana. Just the very sight of her, even travel stained and weary as she'd been, had taken his breath away. He'd lost the ability to speak as he'd held her, and had simply hugged her hard until she'd laughingly wriggled from his embrace and raised her lovely face to be kissed. He'd willingly complied. All the doubt and confusion he'd felt in the last six weeks seemed to melt away as he'd kissed her, and just as he was considering sneaking her away to his room there had been a quiet cough at his side. Dinner had been served and the king waited upon his attendance.

The evening was filled with laughter and merriment and he'd indulged the recruits, allowing the ale to flow freely knowing that for some this may be their very last evening. It was a sobering thought and one that was obviously on the mind of all four wardens present. He could see it in their eyes as they exchanged glances and strove at times to keep their expressions even and relaxed. He'd sat Alistair at the head of the table and himself to the right with Leliana at his side. He held her hand during dinner and fought to keep himself from touching her more intimately. Instead he drank in her presence with his eyes until she begged him to stop, laughing and blushing lightly.

After dinner there had been calls for stories and songs, which a few of the recruits answered with reasonable talent. Before someone could point out Leliana's skill with song, he took the opportunity to slip quietly from the room pulling her close behind him. He had been so absorbed by her company all evening he'd not even once looked in Delilah's direction. If he had, he'd have seen that the girl looked downcast despite the merriment of the dinner.

Now he stretched languidly beside his love, watching her sleep. He felt truly rested for the first time in weeks. But as he lay quietly wishing he had the leisure to spend all day by her side, his thoughts turned to the Joining. He had business to attend to. Dropping a light kiss to her brow, he slipped silently from the bed and gathered his clothes, dressing as quickly as he could. He eased the door to his room closed behind him and looked up to find Alistair walking down the hall. They nodded gravely to one another, a silent acknowledgement of what each of them felt, and went down to the dining room.

After helping themselves to a light breakfast, Alistair asked after the recruits. He said, "Given what might happen today, I'm not sure I want to know about them."

Aedan nodded, wishing he had the luxury of ignorance, but he'd worked with these men and women for six weeks now. He pushed the list of seven names he'd compiled across the table to Alistair and the king regarded it a minute before looking up, "Delilah Howe?"

Aedan blanched, he'd not been sure Alistair would recognise the name, being that the former arl of Amaranthine hadn't been the only Howe in Ferelden, but the coincidence was too great. He nodded and replied, "Howe's daughter."

He watched as Alistair digested this news. He'd not written to the king of Delilah's presence directly, he'd been careful not to mention any names, just detailing numbers and training schedules and progress. Alistair was studying the list intently, though he obviously was no longer reading it. He finally looked up and said, "Did you…did she, why is she here?"

Leaving out certain details, Aedan quickly filled Alistair in on his history with Delilah. He mentioned their friendship throughout childhood and her confession soon after arrival. She had not known of her father's plans. Alistair watched him intently and then said, "What are you not telling me?"

Aedan looked at his hands a moment before replying, "We were…close…before…"

Alistair's expression said he understood precisely what Aedan had not spelled out. He said, "Aedan, are you sure about this? You know what this could mean…"

"She's talented with her blades Alistair, very. This girl has been training since she was old enough to hold a dagger. Howe was quite indulgent with her." He paused and then continued, "To answer your question, no. I'm not sure. I hate the thought of losing any of these recruits. But we need Grey Wardens and her motivation is keen. Both Oghren and Zevran are impressed with her and Kayley's skills. Not an insignificant feat in Zevran's case."

Philippe and Jean joined them just then and the conversation turned to more practical matters, where the chalice was, where the vile concoction they would offer the recruits was, and where to hold the ritual. Aedan had told Alistair of Philippe's change in attitude and he saw that the king was making the effort to be cordial to the warden. Philippe was unfailingly polite. Jean was subdued. They all knew what might happen today.

Aedan put his hands on the table and pushed his chair back, standing up. "Let us be on with this then," he said and was answered by a quiet murmur of agreement. They went to find the recruits.

The serious expressions on the faces of the four wardens obviously had some effect on the recruits and they mimicked the somber mood as the eleven men and woman walked beyond the grounds of the main house to a stone pavilion set in a quiet grove behind a low hill. Aedan knew it for the 'summer house' where Lady Howe had entertained noble ladies and felt oddly perturbed to be using it for such a solemn ceremony.

The men and women formed a loose circle facing Aedan and the other three wardens. Though two of the men had been initially awed by the presence of the king, they had been told Alistair was here as a Grey Warden. This did little to relax the company, however, as the ritual which had been shrouded in such secrecy was finally upon them.

After glancing at the chalice upon the stone table, Aedan looked up at the recruits. He found their intense gaze unnerving, knowing the questions they had, the apprehensions they held. Gesturing to the chalice behind him, he cleared his throat and began. "Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are. Some of you may pay that price today."

Some of the recruits darted glances at each other and the chalice and there was a general shifting of feet and twitching of hands. Aedan shifted his gaze to each recruit in turn, catching their eyes and measuring their resolve before continuing.

"You will each be asked to drink darkspawn blood," he indicated the chalice once again, "that you might master the taint. Those who survive the joining will become immune to the taint and be able to sense the darkspawn. You will be forever changed."

Aedan continued to hold the attention of the men and women before him by meeting each individual gaze. He felt that if he faltered in his own steadfastness, he would fail the recruits and in doing so, allow them to fail themselves.

"We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the beginning."

He gestured to Jean and the young Orlesian warden bowed his head. All followed suit.

_"Join us brothers and sisters  
Join us in the shadows were we stand vigilant  
Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn  
And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten  
And that one day we shall join you."_

Aedan allowed only the smallest moment of silence to follow these words before turning and picking up the chalice. He stepped forward toward the nearest recruit, one of the seasoned veterans from the siege of Denerim. The man stepped forward to meet him and reached for the cup. He drank.

The reaction was immediate. The man's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to his knees making awful choking and gasping sounds. His hands clutched at his neck, then relaxed as he pitched forward on the cool stone floor. Alistair knelt beside him and felt for the pulse in his neck. Aedan did not realize he'd been holding his breath until Alistair nodded and he released it in a rush of air. The man was alive. The new warden suddenly opened his eyes and gasped as if struggling for breath. He coughed. Alistair helped him to his feet and led him to the side of the pavilion to be seated, taking a quiet moment to pat the man's shoulder before returning to stand near Aedan. One down, six to go. Aedan steeled his nerve and handed the chalice to the second recruit. The result was much the same.

The third recruit died horribly. He thrashed about on the floor bloodying his face and hands before suddenly stiffening and lying completely still. His eyes were open and staring, perfectly white. Philippe and Jean quickly stepped forward to pick the man up and carry him away.

The fourth recruit looked terrified. He took a step back from Aedan as he approached, his lips moving in prayer, his eyes never leaving the chalice. Aedan stopped before him, hoping his lack of forward movement would halt the man's backward progress. He remembered the fate of Ser Jory and fervently prayed he would not have to kill this man. The man looked up finally and accepted the cup. His eyes carried a haunted expression and it was all Aedan could do to keep his own gaze steady. The man drank, fell, choked and thrashed. He lived.

Delilah was next. Aedan looked to her and all the things he might say quickly rushed to his mind, but nothing could be voiced. She returned his gaze and her grey eyes were solemn and composed. She stood ready with a quiet resolve. He handed her the chalice. She drank. Her hands flew to her throat and she stared at Aedan in horror before her eyes rolled back and she dropped to the floor. Alistair immediately knelt beside her, feeling for a pulse. He looked up at Aedan and shook his head gently, his face filled with sorrow.

Aedan's ears seemed to stop working and in a fog of silence he resolutely turned toward Kayley, trying not to notice Philippe come forward to help Alistair pick up Delilah's limp form. Kayley's eyes were wide with terror and her hands covered her mouth. She took a step back, but Jean was there, a hand to her elbow. He was talking to her, but Aedan could not hear what he said. His throat ached and his head was beginning to pound. Kayley tried to step back again and Jean moved with her, talking all the while. The elven girl turned to look at Aedan and he had no idea what she saw in his face, but it seemed to decide her. She reached for the cup. She lived.

There was one recruit left, Taren. The mage looked wan as Aedan finally faced him, but he did not hesitate. He stepped forward and took the chalice. He thrashed upon the floor for longer than any of the other recruits and Alistair and Philippe did what they could to protect his head from the hard stone. But his eyes rolled forward again and he finally coughed a shaky breath. He lived.

Aedan did not remember putting the cup on the stone table he was just suddenly not holding it anymore. He could barely hear Philippe welcome the surviving recruits. He felt he'd been struck dumb as well as deaf and his head felt oddly thick. Alistair and Jean handed out the pendants made from some of the blood, explaining their significance. The new wardens were then encouraged to rest for the rest of the day and to seek out one of the older wardens if they had any need.

Aedan had not moved for several minutes when Alistair tapped him lightly on the arm. He started and looked at his friend, then simply dropped to his knees on the stone floor, his head in his hands.


	15. Chapter 15

**Sorrow**

Alistair and Zevran sat side by side in front of the huge hearth that dominated one end of the main hall. They each reclined in comfortable leather armchairs, their feet propped up on a low wooden bench before them. They each stared at the flames, lost in thought.

Ferelden had five new Grey Wardens. The Joining ceremony had taken on an unreal quality in Alistair's mind. He had missed Duncan keenly during the ritual, but knew that his presence would not have changed the outcome. He had been in awe of Aedan's outward composure throughout the Joining, not quite able to fathom what kept the man together following Delilah's death. But when Aedan had dropped to his knees Alistair had seen a look on his face he recognized – the same look he'd had in that cell at Fort Drakon. He'd acted quickly, pulling Aedan back to his feet and talking to him, or at him for all the lack of comprehension he'd seen in those blank, staring eyes. He'd continued his stream of sometimes utter nonsense as he'd guided the Warden Commander to a stone bench set into the side of the pavilion.

Alistair had worked at getting Aedan's attention for around ten minutes, hoping the warrior would not shut down as he had after killing Howe, before Aedan's eyes cleared and he had looked at him and said softly, "What in the Maker's name are you talking about?"

Alistair halted his list of known types of cheese and said simply, "Aedan."

"What have I done?"

"Your duty," was all the answer Alistair had to give right then.

They had sat in silence a while until Philippe had returned for the second body, Delilah's. Aedan had stood then and stopped the warden. He knelt himself to cradle her in his arms. The three men walked back to the estate, Philippe directing Aedan to where the other dead recruit had been set. Aedan set down her body, and then knelt beside the first recruit, paying his respects to the man. He then turned to Delilah and brushed a strand of hair from her still face. He let his hand rest on her forehead a while, his lips moving in quiet prayer, then rose to his feet.

"I'll be in the chapel," he had said quietly as he passed by them and Alistair had merely nodded. Aedan had never shown himself to be the excessively religious sort, but he did have a quiet devotion that Alistair respected. They had no members of the chantry at Amaranthine and the chapel would be deserted. He could think of no better place for Aedan to sort himself out.

Zevran's voice brought him back to the present and he glanced at the elf saying, "Pardon?"

Zevran repeated himself, "The Warden Commander is not taking her death well. This…outcome was always a possibility, no?"

Alistair turned back to his study of the flames. Zevran did not know the details of the Joining ritual, he and Aedan had managed to keep _some_ Grey Warden secrets despite Damien's fears. But it was well known that not all survived the ceremony. He sighed and replied, "Yes. They both knew what they were doing…sometimes things just…"

"Fate is a harsh mistress." Zevran supplied. They fell silent again.

They both looked up as Leliana entered the room. She stepped quickly toward them, her face anguished. She looked directly at Alistair and said, "What have you done to Aedan?"

She threw herself into the chair opposite them and scrubbed at her face with her hands. When she looked up, her eyes were full of tears and she looked at Alistair with a pleading expression.

He tried, "Leliana, I can't tell you about the Joining."

She replied, "But two are dead and he sits in the chapel still as a stone, not making a sound!"

It was then Alistair realized that Aedan had not shared the identity of Delilah Howe with Leliana. He swallowed…what could he say? Zevran took the initiative.

"The female recruit, the one who…passed…was known to the commander. They were childhood companions, I believe."

Leliana replied with a small, "Oh." But her mind was sharp and she immediately followed up with, "More than companions, I think…"

Zevran spread his hands and Alistair began to feel distinctly uncomfortable. Should they be having this conversation?

She was looking at him now and Alistair felt oddly pinned to his chair by the look in her eyes. "Is this why you kept me in Denerim?" she asked, her tone cold.

"What…no! He didn't even know she was here when he left the city!"

Leliana was rubbing her face again, he'd not ever seen her so distraught and it brought to mind her preoccupied nature of late. Had she discovered news she was keeping from him?

Zevran surprised him then by hopping up and stepping across the hearth to kneel before Leliana's chair, taking her pale hands in his and saying quietly, "Aedan would climb the Frostback Mountains barefoot for you, Leliana. I have rarely witnessed such loyalty in a man."

The bard regarded the assassin and they took one another's measure. Leliana answered quietly, "But six weeks, Zev, six weeks and no mention…"

Zevran replied, "My dear rogue, we all know what Aedan sounds like when in the throes of passion. Trust me; these halls were blessedly quiet until you arrived yesterday evening."

Alistair nearly choked on shocked laughter. It was true! The companions had had so little privacy during their travels and tent walls were somewhat…insubstantial. In addition, both he and Zevran's rooms here at the estate were adjacent to Aedan's. There had been no doubt Aedan and Leliana had been getting reacquainted last night. Zevran cocked an eyebrow at him and shrugged lightly, adding "He is noisy in battle too, it is a warrior thing, I think."

Zevran's bluntness worked. Colour rose in Leliana's cheeks and she clamped her mouth closed, lips tight, obviously fighting the same mirth Alistair had given way to. She pulled her hands from Zevran's and rose to her feet. The elf stood with her, watching her intently. He cleared his throat and began, "It was not my intention to offend…"

But she cut him off with a small smile, "Zevran, I…thank you. For watching over him…and for being," she paused, her head tilting a little to one side as she considered, "For being you."

Leliana turned to Alistair and she said simply, "Forgive me, Alistair, I am not myself." Leliana rarely called him by any other than his given name, it was something he'd come to appreciate greatly. It comforted him that she did not intend to stand on ceremony now. He had come to value their friendship.

Alistair rose also, feeling the need to dispel any lingering awkwardness. He said, "Leliana, his duty is a great burden and one he does not carry lightly. But Aedan is as strong a man as I have ever known. Don't let his guilt consume him. When he is ready be there for him. He will need you."

She nodded quietly and stepped away from them, turning toward the door. Philippe was standing in the doorway looking somewhat discomfited. He bowed formally to Leliana as she slipped by him and approached the hearth.

The Orlesian gestured toward the chair Leliana had vacated and Alistair nodded his assent before reclaiming his own seat. Zevran remained standing, one eyebrow raised and Philippe gestured the other chair, "Please, I do intend to divulge any Grey Warden secrets."

Philippe turned to Alistair and said, "The Commander is taking the loss of this girl very personally."

Alistair closed his eyes and sighed. Here we go again…

He turned to look at Zevran, appealing for help, but the elf merely smiled and returned his gaze as if to say, 'your turn'. He turned to Philippe and said simply, "They were childhood friends."

Understanding dawned on the Orlesian's face and he responded with, "Ah…I had thought…" and he looked over his shoulder at the empty doorway.

Alistair hastily reiterated, "Friends. Aedan is an honourable man."

Philippe surprised him by nodding quickly, "Yes, I believe he is." He stopped, considered, and then continued, "Alistair…I did not know Duncan, but I knew him by reputation. I have been a warden for nearly fifteen years now. You and Aedan served his memory well today. A Joining is never…easy. I have witnessed several."

Alistair nodded and replied, "Thank you, Philippe." Then he added, "We were fortunate to have had our Brothers from Orlais with us today."

Philippe acknowledged the thanks and continued with, "It is…good that he grieves in this way. We give up so much to become Grey Wardens, we should retain our humanity as long as is possible."

Perhaps Aedan was right in this man's change of heart after all, Alistair thought. The Orlesian was quiet a moment, his own thoughts inward, and then he went to stand up, bracing his hands on either arm of the deep leather chair. He bowed his head a little formally and said, "When the Commander is ready we should discuss Damien." He strode quickly from the room.

Alistair turned to look at Zevran and was not surprised to see his own astonished expression reflected in the elf's face.

--=0=--

Aedan was cold and began to wonder how long he'd been sitting in the dark, cool chapel. He'd ceased thinking about Delilah and the horror of the Joining some time ago and had let his mind wander over the events of the past sixteen months. It had been a long and terrible road he'd traveled and it appeared he was not yet done. He missed Wynne. Although her advice was not always what he wanted to hear, she had listened to him without judgment. Sometimes that was all that was necessary – the listening. He suddenly felt the need for action. He had no time to sit about in this dark chapel, there was too much to do. He stood, wincing at the stiffness of his back, and headed for the door.

Leliana was sitting just outside on a low stone bench and she rose quickly when she saw him. Her beautiful eyes were clouded with worry and she was holding his sword and dagger in her hands. He knew she'd sat by him in the chapel some time ago, but he couldn't remember what she'd said and he instantly felt guilty for shutting her out. He tried a smile. He felt his face would crack and knew that he'd produced more of a grimace.

She held out his blades and said carefully, "I thought you might like some exercise."

He considered a moment and then took his weapons from her with something that resembled a more natural smile. Yes, that was exactly what he needed and he looked at her wordlessly in thanks. He followed her through the courtyard and out into the practice field.

She pulled her own weapons from their sheaths and fell into an easy defensive posture across from him. He advanced gently and they crossed weapons, neither of them putting much power behind their blows. They moved through forms for a while, strike, parry, block, their rhythm and force increasing as their bodies warmed and they rediscovered each other's style.

Aedan felt himself relaxing and a knot of tension between his shoulder blades slowly began to unwind. Then his mind wandered and he saw an axe instead of a sword and Delilah's face laughing at him as she expertly deflected a blow. They had sparred together many times over the weeks. He faltered and slipped, missing a parry and felt the hilt of a sword bang his wrist. He winced and broke the routine. He looked up and it was Leliana's face he saw, but it was wavering and he realized his eyes were full of tears. He turned his head to the side to hide his face, mortified by his own weakness. But Leliana moved with him and came to stand right before him. She reached to brush his cheek with her thumb, catching a tear and he tried to turn his head again. She placed a hand to either side of his face and stopped him.

"Aedan," she said, "Alistair told me who she was. I'm so sorry…"

He looked into her eyes and saw the truth there. She did know and her expression held only love and compassion for him. He felt his shoulders slump as he whispered to her, "I killed her, as well as if it had been my own blade."

She shook her head and replied, "You did not. It was her choice…I think she was very brave, and you should honour that."

He blinked and lifted his hands to hers, pulling them from his face. He held them to his chest a moment before releasing them and slipping his arms around her shoulders. She rested her head against his chest and he rested his cheek atop her head and they simply stood together for a long time.

Afterwards they collected their weapons and headed back inside. Aedan felt more composed. He spent time with each new warden that afternoon. He pushed the burden of his guilt away for a while as he listened to them tell of their experience and welcomed four brothers and one sister as Grey Wardens.


	16. Chapter 16

Joy

It was an unusually warm day for so early in the spring and Aedan was trying to maintain a clear mind. He was lying on the backside of the small slope behind the practice grounds. His eyes were closed and the faint warmth of the sun felt good on his face. He could smell fresh grass around him and hear something buzzing lightly by his ear, a bee probably, looking for early blooming flowers.

He was hiding from Taren. As he'd seen more battle with the magical darkspawn emissaries than most living Grey Wardens, Taren had been after him all morning to describe their talents and spells. Aedan was tired of looking in books of magic and agreeing that it might have been this spell, or deciding it definitely wasn't that spell. But Taren was a thinker and he was studying defensive spells he might use in battle besides his healing abilities. His ideas did have merit…but it was so pleasant outside today!

Something tickled his ear and he ignored it at first, too lazy to raise a hand and flick the errant insect away. The tickle came again and he grunted, lifting a hand and finding nothing. At the third tickle he squinted his eyes open and turned his head. He saw grass…and a shadow disappearing upslope. He turned the other direction and his hand shot out, grazing a soft leather boot. Before he could mount a proper defense Leliana suddenly dropped over him, sitting astride his middle. He lifted his hands to grasp her about the waist.

"You stealthy rogue," he mock growled sliding his hands up her back as he pulled her down toward himself for a kiss.

After a moment, she leaned back, settling herself over his hips and regarded his face. She said, "It's good to see you smiling."

"Of course I am," he replied, "I am with you."

"We've been looking for you. Alistair wants to talk to you. When I couldn't find you I started to worry…"

He felt the stab of pain, the Joining had only been yesterday after all. The wardens had all turned out to pay their respects to the dead last night and then the rest of the estate had joined them for a dinner that had moved from somber to a sort of tentative celebration as the ale once again flowed. Leliana had been his source of strength and comfort all evening. He looked up at her now and said, "I'm hiding from Taren, actually."

She chuckled and he idly began to work his fingers beneath the vest of her drakeskin armour, grateful she wasn't wearing a dress. They needed to invent dresses that fastened at the front, he thought. Her weight shifted over his hips and he had another thought, Taren needed to find a spell to make clothing disappear in an instant, his pants were becoming uncomfortably tight. She leaned forward to resume their kiss and he succeeded in locating skin beneath leather, moving his hands upwards.

There was a resounding boom from the practice field behind them and the sound of voices rising in argument. The voices dropped quickly, but the disturbance had been enough to break the mood.

Aedan groaned, a mixture of frustrations, and extracted his hands from Leliana's armour. She was giggling now and slyly shifted her hips over his again, just so, as she sat up. Aedan lifted her off of himself, saying, "Be gone, foul temptress!"

She laughed and stood, straightening her leathers as she did so. He rolled over and sat up, waiting a moment to compose himself before standing beside her. She began to lean toward him, her eyes sparkling merrily and he put both palms flat against her shoulders, stopping her with a laugh. "You are truly evil, you know?"

She regarded him with a mock frown, "You wound me, my Warden!" Then her expression cleared and she stood before him, chewing on her lip a moment before saying, "Aedan, there is something I wanted to talk with you about."

"Oh?" He asked mildly, "What's on your mind?"

"Commander?"

Eric, one of the new wardens was standing atop the slope, a grin on his face. He was an older man, one of the veterans of the Siege of Denerim, and Aedan wondered exactly how long he'd been watching them.

"The King, er, Alistair…requests your presence." Aedan didn't know whether to feel sorrier for Alistair or the wardens when it came to differentiating between the man's various roles.

"I'll be there…momentarily," he replied. Eric nodded and disappeared back over the rise.

He turned back to Leliana, "Now, you wanted to ask me something?"

She shook her head gently and said, "We will talk later, it seems Alistair grows impatient."

He smiled and leaned in to drop a kiss to her forehead before turning her by the shoulders and gently pushing her up the slope ahead of him. "Off you go then, I'll catch up with you later."

Leliana sauntered away and he dragged his eyes from her retreating hips, took a deep breath, and set off to find Alistair.

As he crossed the practice grounds he noticed Zevran and Kayley sparring. They often practiced together as they had very similar styles. Zevran had even convinced her to give up her favoured axe and try a sword in her main hand. She was so slight and the sword greatly extended her reach. It was a good call, and one of the reasons Aedan valued the assassin's help here at Amaranthine. Beyond his skills in stealth and detection, the Zevran was a fine swordsman with a speed and dexterity that was dizzying to behold.

Eric was working with Rolf, another of the new wardens. They were comrades-in-arms before the Joining and Aedan sensed an easy companionship between the two men. Rolf favoured a sword and shield while Eric wielded a huge two handed blade. They were a ready team that would be an asset in battle.

He looked for Lyek, the Dalish ranger. The elf, while more than adequate with his blades, was deadly with his bow. He could also summon an animal companion to his side, a skill that had proven handy in the Western Hills according to Oghren. The poor ranger was caught inside a glyph, most likely paralysis by his frozen attitude, and Aedan looked quickly about for Taren. The mage spotted him in the same moment and called out, "I have another tome for you to look at, Commander!"

Aedan raised a hand in acknowledgement and quickened his step, "Perhaps after I meet with the King." Yes, Alistair could be king right now, couldn't he?

As if sensing his thoughts, Alistair stepped from a doorway and met him as he entered the courtyard.

"Commander," he said by way of greeting and Aedan rejoined with "Your Majesty."

They shared a quick laugh and then Alistair said, "Leliana found you then?"

Aedan raised his brows, "Yes and Eric."

Alistair frowned, "She didn't deliver my message? She snapped at me, you know, said she wasn't the king's personal runner." Alistair looked a little concerned before continuing, "We've all been looking for you for over an hour, we were concerned."

Aedan deflected Alistair's concern with a wave of the hand and said, "I'm fine."

Alistair nodded and moved on. "I wanted to talk to you about…Haven."

Aedan's eyes widened and he responded, lowering his voice, "Do you think…"

He stopped as Philippe and Jean entered the courtyard from the main hall. He returned the older warden's nod and waited for him to approach.

"Ah, Alistair, Commander…just the people I seek. Would this be a good time for our discussion of Damien?"

Aedan glanced at Alistair and saw he was not surprised by this request. He turned back to Philippe and said, "Of course, shall we go to my study?"

The four men stepped inside and followed Aedan to the small room behind the main hall designated as his private office.

The study had belonged to Rendon Howe and Aedan had balked at using the room himself, but it was conveniently placed with windows overlooking the practice field. The room was large enough to contain a grouping of four leather chairs in front of the windows as well as a desk and ample shelving. It was somewhat sparsely decorated as he'd had it cleaned out upon his arrival and hadn't stopped to put personal touches in place afterwards. He gestured the four chairs and the wardens seated themselves and all looked to Philippe, waiting for him to begin.

"As you know, Damien has many curiosities regarding the Ferelden Wardens. The principle of which is how you survived against the arch demon." He put his hand up here, forestalling any comments Aedan or Alistair might have been about to make.

The Orlesian glanced from Aedan to Alistair and said, "This divine luck you would have us believe," he shrugged, "…well, it is not sufficient. Perhaps after what I have to say, you will trust me with more."

Philippe stopped here and his expression seemed to say 'or perhaps you won't'. But he continued regardless, "I have been with you here for six weeks now, observing, and what I have to say is not easy. But I believe it is time to talk of what I know," he paused here before adding, "and what I can only guess at."

"Damien is has risen too quickly in the ranks of the wardens. He only joined seven years ago and already he is commander in Val Royeaux. There is some doubt in my mind regarding the warden he succeeded. Paul left for his Calling, but to my knowledge, he had only been with the Grey Wardens for twenty-two years."

Philippe paused and looked around at the assembled men, offering a light shrug, "This is not an exact science. The taint affects us all differently."

Alistair asked, "You mean to say…you think Damien became Commander under suspicious circumstances?"

Philippe was silent a moment, his eyes thoughtful. It was obvious he was weighing his options here. He replied, "Yes."

Jean gasped. Philippe looked over at the younger Orlesian and said sadly, "I am sorry Jean, I know you younger wardens idolize the former chevalier who leads us, but I do not think he has the best interest of the Grey Wardens at heart. He sees them as his own private army, one that is not answerable to the Empress or any sovereign."

Philippe sighed and continued, "I might have been commander next. It was not a role I wanted, but I did put myself forward. When duty calls..." He looked directly at Aedan here and the two men shared an understanding. "However, his more persuasive personality won the vote."

"I think his purpose in asking me to come to Ferelden was twofold. One, I am out of his way. Two, he sees your order as imminently vulnerable and perhaps seeks an opportunity to extend his influence over these newer wardens." Here Philippe gestured Aedan and Alistair, "Two young men, wardens for barely a year with little or no guidance. He sees an opening."

Aedan and Alistair exchanged a thoughtful nod. This particular scenario was one they had discussed between themselves. But presented with more knowledge of Damien's machinations it was all the more obvious, and disturbing.

Philippe leaned back in his chair, looking fatigued by his words. Jean looked stunned…and confused. He had likely looked up to both Philippe and Damien and now the order of his preconceptions was crumbling about him.

Alistair recovered first and leaned forward to ask, "Philippe, why have you chosen to share this with us?"

"It has been many centuries since the last Blight and the Grey Wardens are not all what they used to be. Yes, many preserve the old ways and live by our motto. Most, I believe, are honorable men and women who would do, as we say, whatever is necessary to protect the innocent. But there is much corruption and rebellion, the order has been idle for so long."

Philippe turned to look at Aedan then, and Aedan recalled the conversation he'd had with the Orlesian warden after the battle in the Western Hills.

"You both exhibit such dedication and honor, it is humbling. Perhaps you came by this as a result of the Blight. However I see in you something that has been missing for too long. I believe that Ferelden holds the key to the future of the Grey Wardens and that Damien wants to possess this key."

Aedan stood up here and paced to the window, looking out over the practice ground. He turned and faced Philippe, "There is something here I do not understand. Does this mean Empress Celene intended to use the Orlesian Wardens to occupy Ferelden at a time of great weakness? If so, surely she would not have waited upon an invitation from Cailan?"

Philippe looked surprised, "Empress Celene use Grey Wardens? I have heard of no such plan, as I understood it, she and your King Cailan were well into negotiating a peace between our countries."

Alistair put in, "But Damien was a favoured Chevalier, is it not possible she encouraged him to become a Grey Warden?"

Philippe looked disturbed, "Favoured? From where did you hear this?"

Alistair glanced at Aedan and then answered, "Leliana."

Philippe nodded slowly, "Ah, the bard, yes, Damien was extremely interested to learn she was one of your companions." He stopped and looked up at Aedan, "You do know of her previous associations?"

Aedan answered quickly, "Yes."

Philippe accepted this and continued, "She has not been in Orlais for quite some time. Damien is no longer in favour with the Empress Celene. After trying unsuccessfully for many years to win her hand through fair means and foul he was finally sent from court and it was rumoured that she intended to strip his chevalier status…and then he became a Grey Warden."

Alistair said quietly, "He seeks power then."

Philippe responded, "Yes."

Aedan sank back into his chair with a sigh, "And here we thought darkspawn were the enemy." He looked over at Alistair, "Thoughts, Your Majesty?"

Alistair rubbed his chin thoughtfully and then looked at Philippe. "Leliana serves as one of my advisors, and though she was not been in Orlais for some time, she still has much knowledge of the politics and workings of the nobles. Would you object to hearing her perspective on this news?"

Philippe raised his brows, but said nothing a moment as he considered. Finally he nodded and said, "If you think she could provide a viewpoint we have not considered, by all means."

The wardens had talked away most of the afternoon and the light outside the windows was fading. Aedan stood and proposed they talk further in the morning. From the weary expressions of the other men, this was a welcome suggestion.

Aedan decided to stop by his room and change out of the lightweight mail he wore for training. When he entered he saw Leliana sprawled across the bed, eyes closed, chest rising and falling softly with the rhythm of deep sleep. She looked a little flushed and he wondered if she was well, it was not like her to nap in the middle of the afternoon. He sat by the bed a while and just watched her sleep. When it became apparent she would not wake soon, he recovered some clothes as quietly as possible and left the room.

After dinner that evening Leliana excused herself early, complaining of an upset stomach. Aedan became truly concerned. They had not had the chance to talk all evening and he belated remembered she'd had something to ask him that afternoon. He offered to accompany her to his room. She smiled wearily and said she needed rest…something that was not likely to happen if he came along. She kissed him sweetly goodnight and disappeared, leaving him frowning with worry.

He turned back to the dining room. Zevran was still in the company of Kayley and was he grateful to the elf for taking the new warden under his wing. Though many regarded the Antivan as a ruthless assassin with a lewd sense of humour, which he was, Aedan knew him as a steadfast friend, something Kayley could use right now.

Alistair was sitting with Philippe and Aedan stepped over to join the two men, sitting heavily beside the king with a sigh. Alistair raised a brow in his direction and quipped, "Still here? The halls will be blissfully quiet tonight."

Aedan allowed a rueful grin, then leaned forward and said, "Alistair, tell me, has Leliana been well? She napped again today and says her stomach troubles her. How was the journey here? Is there sickness in the city?"

Alistair regarded him with surprise, "No, I mean, there is no sickness, but she has seemed out of sorts lately, irritable even. It's so unlike her. I had assumed she simply missed her Warden until she snapped at me today." He paused here, his brows drawing together in thought before continuing, "But I have had the impression lately that she has heard something…or had some news she hasn't shared with me."

Aedan heard a soft chuckle behind him. He turned and Philippe was eyeing them both with amusement. He raised his brows at the older warden. Philippe raised a hand and said, "Forgive me; I remember again how young you both are." Aedan shrugged as if to say, 'and this is relevant how?'

"I think you will find she has news, Aedan, but not of a nature she'd likely share with Alistair before yourself."

Aedan looked at Alistair and Alistair looked back at him. They found no answers in one another's expressions and both looked back to Philippe who was looking extremely pleased with himself now.

"What?" Aedan asked, unable to fathom what this man could possibly know about Leliana's business that he did not. He felt a tickle of fear down his spine.

"She is with child, Aedan. Trust me on this; I have seen this all before, four times in fact."

Alistair immediately responded with, "You have four children?"

Philippe nodded, looking understandably proud.

Aedan's mouth dropped open with shock and his racing thoughts came to a halt. A child, his child! He felt suddenly as if the Maker himself had smiled upon him and given him a second chance! As Aedan rose from his chair, nearly tripping in his haste to leave the dining room, there was only one way to describe the expression on his face, one that had absent for entirely too long: Pure and simple Joy.


	17. Chapter 17

Highever

Aedan dreamed:

He was running through a field, his tread uncertain as he splashed from marshy turf to ankle deep puddles. His footing was further complicated by the deceptive and lengthening shadows of the tall trees surrounding the field. The air was talking on a chill that the weak rays of sunlight occasionally angling through a break in the forest did little to dispel. A rotting wooden fence also circled the grassland, but weather and lack of maintenance had reduced it to little more than a reminder that livestock might once have been kept here. The fence would do little to stop the creatures on his heels.

He stopped and turned, raising his staff and calling forth lightening. Arcs of electricity shot across the field and danced about the wet ground at the feet of the three wolves and they stiffened in shock. One dropped to the ground but the others continued to stagger forward. Aiming the staff he sent an arcane bolt toward one advancing wolf. It stopped still and the awful smell of burnt fur rose on the breeze. The final wolf howled and he felt a shiver as the sound attempted to thwart his nerve. Raising the staff once again he summoned winter's grasp, freezing the wolf mid-howl. Another well placed bolt shattered what was left of the creature.

He picked up the dead rabbit he'd been carrying and reattached it to his belt before moving toward the far tree line.

Aedan knew where he was before he broke through the trees and entered the deserted village. He was in Haven and he was traveling with Morrigan again. As always, the awareness became mutual and he heard her voice.

"These repeated visits, Aedan, do you have nothing better with which to occupy your time?" She continued through the village and turned up the slope toward the chantry. Morrigan remained silent until she stepped inside the large building. She set the rabbit on the table near the door and removed her cloak.

She took a moment to smooth her more modest garment over the rounding of her belly then and spoke to Aedan again. "As you can see, things progress well with us." Aedan could felt the satisfaction and gratification Morrigan felt as she regarded her own body.

She picked up the rabbit and a sharp knife and stepped back outside to begin the bloody task of preparing it for her supper. Before she started though, she took a moment to appreciate the lingering colours the setting sun had painted across the horizon. Again, Aedan felt her peace and contentment. Then the familiar push came and he awoke.

His mouth was dry and his head ached lightly. He was disturbed to have dreamed of Morrigan again so soon. His dreams were increasing in frequency and his nerves were starting to suffer as a result. He turned his head to assess the hour. It was late afternoon and a similar display of late sunlight was streaked across the sky out his window.

Aedan swung his legs over the side of the bed and scrubbed at his face. Afternoon naps were not usually his style, but Leliana had come to enjoy them and his own broken sleep of late often deemed them a necessity.

He glanced about his old bedroom. He was in Highever and the setting felt strange and familiar at the same time. He and the rest of the Grey Wardens had arrived around lunchtime and planned to stay the week. The wedding was in just four days and he smiled as the thrill of anticipation returned, washing away the last of his dream.

Leliana, Alistair and Oghren were due to arrive tomorrow. Alistair had returned to Denerim as planned, but Leliana had stayed on at Amaranthine and the intervening weeks had been full of pleasure and laughter. Aedan's delight in Leliana's pregnancy was infectious and all the wardens had benefited from the feeling of levity following that first Joining. Leliana herself had returned to Denerim two weeks ago in order to find wedding clothes and Aedan had missed her sorely.

As he thought of the upcoming nuptials Aedan was awash with conflicting emotions. The idea of spending his life with Leliana filled him with elation and the joy he experienced when he thought of the child they shared had not diminished, but it was underlined with an uneasy guilt. There were the obvious concerns – he had given up his name and his nobility to become a Grey Warden. Leliana had been very practical about this, correctly pointing out that he was still the King's Chancellor, though it mattered very little to her what title he held anyway.

Then there were the less obvious, but more sinister concerns – he was a Grey Warden. He worried constantly what effect the taint might have on his child. He worried about Leliana's fate when he went to his Calling. He worried that he might not make it that far. Darkspawn sightings had been increasing and they'd had two more skirmishes with small bands in the last month. They'd also had another Joining and added three more Grey Wardens to the order, losing another two recruits.

Of course his recent dream brought to mind yet another concern – Morrigan. Aedan had dreamed of her twice this week alone. He and Alistair had discussed her supposed location but had been unable to come up with a plausible reason for venturing into the Frostbacks. The region was largely unpopulated and there had been no word of darkspawn activity in that direction.

He thought of Morrigan's child and a shiver ran down his spine. He had still not told Leliana about the ritual and as he thought on it, a weight of remorse settled over his shoulders.

There was a light knock at his door and at his answer, a servant peeped into the room and announced the Teryn had requested his company for before dinner refreshments. Aedan nodded his assent as he fought to keep a straight face – those would have been the steward's words and not Fergus's. Fergus would simply have told him to 'get his arse down here for some ale'. Fergus was going to love Oghren.

His heart lightening somewhat at the thought of his brother, Aedan grabbed his wrinkled shirt from the back of a chair and sat to lace up his boots.

As he entered the dining room Fergus looked up and laughed at him. "I hope you plan to dress more decently for your wedding, little brother," he said. Aedan looked down at his shirt, which in the brighter light looked even worse, and noticed that his pants had suffered much the same fate from his nap. His boots were in good condition though. He tended to take care of his boots.

Aedan scratched at his head, irritated by the length of his hair. Leliana had asked him to let it grow a little for their wedding. He said, "I'm sure Leliana will bring something suitable for me up from Denerim."

Fergus's face softened and he said quietly, "Of course she will. Mother would have adored her, Aedan, you know that right?"

Aedan nodded his head in agreement, "They definitely possess the same spirit, and a similar desire to dress me in frilly clothes."

Fergus laughed heartily and clapped Aedan on the shoulder and Aedan was glad to see his brother happy. Though he had lost his parents to Howe's treachery, Fergus had lost so much more – his wife and son. His eyes had yet to lose their soft shadow, but he'd shared Aedan's joy in his own imminent fatherhood and wedding and had insisted they hold the celebration at Castle Cousland.

"I see the evening's festivity has started without me." Zevran slipped silently in to the room and was greeted with much enthusiasm from Fergus. A second tentative shadow filled the doorway and Aedan called gestured for Kayley to enter.

The elven girl crossed immediately to Zevran's side and the assassin slipped a comfortable arm about her shoulders. The two had become nearly inseparable in the past month and it gladdened Aedan's heart to see the happiness in both their faces.

Kayley was followed shortly after by Philippe, Jean and the rest of the wardens and soon the dining room was full of loud chatter, bursts of laughter and the clatter of silverware as dinner was finally served.

The next morning Aedan and Fergus finalized the wedding plans with the kitchen staff and Mother Adele before Aedan rounded up the wardens for some practice. He used the excuse of their travel and resultant lack of training, but they all knew as well as he that Aedan needed a way to occupy the hours until Leliana arrived.

As they were breaking for lunch there was some commotion from the front of the castle signaling the companions from Denerim had arrived. Aedan dropped the towel he was using to mop sweat from his brow and ran for the gates. The lightly fatigued wardens all exchanged indulgent grins and laughter as they watched their young commander sprint with renewed vigour toward the sound.

Aedan skidded to a halt upon reaching the main gates and scanned the arriving crowd. Why were there so many people? It appeared Oghren and Alistair had arrived with half the army of Ferelden upon their heels and the sun was glinting blindingly off helms, breastplates and shields. Where was Leliana? He spotted Alistair's golden armour at the same time the king saw him and he stepped forward grasp his arm in greeting. Alistair took in his disheveled appearance and commented drily, "Come straight from mucking out some stalls I see…"

Aedan shrugged and laughed, looking over Alistair's shoulder as he caught a flash of red hair. It was Oghren removing his helm and the dwarf stomped over and pummeled Aedan on the back enthusiastically. "Good to see ya, Warden," he growled in his distinctive low timbre.

He was just about to ask Alistair where he was hiding Leliana when she stepped through the gates and Aedan shouldered his way through the assembled plate mail to sweep her up into his arms and pull her to his chest in a crushing hug. "You're here!" he said simply.

Leliana laughed and replied, "So I am! Now put me down before you break me!"

Aedan put her down and held her at arms' length as he drank in her appearance. She was breathtaking in a cobalt blue dress decorated with lacings and glossy black pearls. She looked neither weary nor travel worn and he suddenly became conscious of his own sweaty training attire. "I should get cleaned up before I destroy your beautiful dress," he said and she nodded in amused agreement. He did chance leaning forward to kiss her however, and she indulged him.

Several castle staff had arrived upon the scene, closely followed by Fergus who was formally greeting his king. The army was escorted to the barracks, and servants began collecting luggage to place in the various guest rooms. Aedan took Leliana's hand and said, "I'll show you to your room, my love."

The afternoon passed quickly as the friends became reacquainted. As predicted, Fergus and Oghren bonded over ale. Leliana spent a good hour at Zevran's side exchanging gossip and stories. Aedan and Alistair had not seen each other in a month and caught up on generalities for a while. Then Alistair asked if they could talk somewhere more private and Aedan took him into Fergus's study. Alistair produced a satchel and started pulling out documents. "Eamon wanted you to look over these with me," he said by way of explanation.

Aedan looked at the papers laid out on the desk. They were copies of the treaties with Orlais Cailan had been working on. He glanced up at Alistair and said, "How much did you share with Eamon?"

"Not everything," Alistair admitted, "But enough that he agreed we should pursue the completion of these treaties. I'll be leaving directly from here to Orlais after your wedding."

Aedan nodded thoughtfully, that explained the sizeable contingent of Ferelden's army that had arrived with the king. The two friends spent a quiet hour or so poring over the treaties and discussing them in light of what they now knew concerning the former Chevalier, Damien Fournier.

Afterwards Alistair asked Aedan if he'd had any more dreams concerning Morrigan and Haven. Aedan looked up from the desk in surprise and admitted he'd had a dream just the day before.

"Actually," he said, "Morrigan has been much in my thoughts these past weeks."

Alistair replied, "And here I thought you were about to wed Leliana."

Aedan looked at him with a wounded expression and Alistair immediately looked contrite. Aedan said, "I will never know if I made the right decision that night. Now Leliana is to be my wife and she carries my child, and it will not be my first…" he held out his hands, unable to properly articulate his thoughts.

They were interrupted by a light tap on the door. Dinner was being served.

Most of the guests retired early that evening. Three days of travel combined with an afternoon of ale had combined to make even the hardiest soul weary and the after dinner conversation, while genial, had become subdued. As the companions wished each other a good night, Aedan again took Leliana's hand and walked by side, asking solicitously after her well being.

She smiled up at him and responded, "I'm fine Aedan, in fact I wouldn't mind a walk before we go in, it's a beautiful evening."

Aedan nodded his assent and took her by the arm, leading her through the castle and out to the gardens. They strolled wordlessly for a time, simply enjoying one another's company and the quiet of the evening. Upon approaching a stone bench set into a hedge, Aedan offered Leliana a seat and she accepted, pulling him down by her side.

Leliana turned toward him and reached up to run a hand through his hair. She smiled and said, "I do love your hair when you let it grow." He growled good-naturedly and captured her hand, bringing it to his lips before setting it down again, lacing his fingers with hers.

She studied him a moment longer, before asking him, "Aedan, you are so quiet this evening. Is there something on your mind?"

Aedan grinned at her and said, "You."

She laughed and replied, "Now that is more like the warden I know and adore." She continued to study him a moment and then said, "Is it the wedding…" her delicate brow wrinkled as she continued, "Are you having second thoughts?"

He leaned forward and kissed her brow and slipped his arms about her, pulling her closer. He whispered into her hair, "No, I cannot imagine anything I could want more." But as he held her, his thoughts turned to the dream he'd had yesterday, the reminder that Leliana's child would not be his first and he swallowed drily as he realized he did not want to marry this woman with such an awful secret between them. Though he'd been able to push it aside, the burden was becoming heavier. He had always known it would never go away.

He lifted his head away from hers and cleared his throat and she looked up at him expectantly, her face luminous in the soft lamplight. His resolve crumbled and he whispered, "Let's go to bed."


	18. Chapter 18

Confession

Aedan dreamed:

His eyes were open and the room was dark and almost completely silent. He could not hear Leliana breathing next to him and he turned his head to check for her. She was not there. Panic rose in his chest. He reached for the edge of the bed and swung his legs over, only to find the height of the bed had changed. He stumbled onto the floor and felt around for the lamp he was sure was on the table. The table wasn't there. Neither was the window when he looked to it for any trace of moonlight. Aedan felt in the dark for the bed again and sank down at its edge, sitting a moment as he tried to figure out where he was.

Then Morrigan spoke and her voice was angry. "Aedan, this is too much. I was sleeping. You must desist this infernal pestering!"

He felt himself stand up again, thought it did not appear it was by his will this time. He was starting to feel disoriented and confused. Her voice continued, "You have your own child to worry about now, Aedan, leave mine alone."

Her words stirred terror inside him as he tried to grasp how she could possibly know about his child with Leliana. He tried to yell at her to ask her how, but the familiar push started. He held on and a struggle ensued with Morrigan cursing out loud while he cursed inwardly. The struggle ceased and silence fell and then she was chanting. Her voice rose on the cadence of her words and with a push so strong it felt as though something had torn, he was flung away

He heard a hoarse cry followed by a yell and his eyes flew open. The yell sounded again and he realized it came from his throat. He sat up. Something clutched at his arm and he flung it off, yelling again. He threw the covers back and leapt from the bed. He ran for the window and was relieved to find it exactly where it should be. It was illuminated by a soft predawn light.

"Aedan?"

He spun with a gasp, startled and confused for a moment because it wasn't Morrigan's voice. "It's you!" he said.

Leliana moved toward the edge of the bed and swung her legs over, but remained sitting there, her hands clutched in her lap. She looked at him with a frightened expression and he returned her gaze with little comprehension for a few moments before he slowly stepped back toward the bed.

Aedan sat beside Leliana and she raised a hand to his shoulder. Involuntarily he flinched as her fingers lightly brushed his skin and when he turned to face her, the fear in her face had been replaced by extreme worry. He looked down at his lap and took a deep, shaky breath before turning back to her and moving his arms around her, holding her close. She was so warm and he could hear her breath and her heart beat and he relaxed, sighing into her hair.

Leliana moved her hands to his face and gently lifted his head from her shoulder so that their eyes could meet. She said quietly, "These dreams of yours Aedan, they are much worse than before. Please, my beloved warden, what is it that torments you so?"

Aedan felt caught by her gaze and attempted to pull away from her hands. She held him still a moment, and then relented, dropping her hands to her sides. It was time, Aedan knew that. It was time to let go. He was so tired of the guilt and the worry. He was just so tired.

He whispered, "Morrigan," and felt something inside him tear, much as it had felt in that last push before he woke up.

Leliana gasped and he leaned away from her to cover his face with his hands, saying, "Leli, I have done the most terrible thing and I will never be able to make it right. I keep telling myself I did it to save him but I fear the cost may be too great, one I can no longer bear."

He looked up and she was staring at him, a stunned expression upon her face. She whispered, "Aedan, what have you done? Who is he and what has this to do with Morrigan?"

Aedan stared at her blankly for a moment as he also wondered 'who is he?' Then his mind focused and he said as if it should have been obvious, "He is Alistair, the King."

Leliana sighed softly her head dropping towards her lap and when she lifted her face again she had become so pale. She said patiently, but with a slight quaver in her voice, "Aedan, I do not understand. Please tell me what happened to disturb you so. These dreams of yours terrify me."

Aedan took her hands and held them tightly in his own and said quietly, "I am so afraid of losing you. You and our child mean everything to me, Leliana, everything."

She nodded and waited for him to continue. Aedan took a breath, held it and let it out slowly. He looked away from her face. He could not bear to see the look in her eyes when he started to speak.

"The night before we left Redcliffe for Denerim Morrigan came to me with a plan." He stopped here, knowing he was about to break the confidence of his brothers. He saw his choice as divulging Grey Warden secrets or losing everything he held dear. He closed his eyes and asked the Maker for guidance, sensing in his heart there would be none. This was his decision and he'd already set one foot in what he hoped, and fervently prayed, was the right direction. Contemplating their joined hands he continued. "Leli, I should have died on top of Fort Drakon that night…and I would have willingly done so for Alistair, for my Brother and King, and for Ferelden."

Leliana's expression was one of bewilderment. She whispered softly, "But you did not…"

Pulling his hands from hers and returning his gaze to his lap he reordered his thoughts before starting again. "A Grey Warden is needed to end the Blight because only a Grey Warden, one who has the taint in their blood, can defeat an arch demon without releasing the soul of an old god into the world. We take it into ourselves and it…it kills us."

Leliana gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. He could see she was now understanding many things and confirming his thoughts she said, "All those questions from the Orlesians. Aedan, how did you do it…" her voice dropped with fear, "Aedan, what did you do?"

He plunged on before he lost his nerve, "Morrigan came to me and spoke of a ritual," his voice broke here and he stopped for a moment before continuing, "And I acceded to her plan." He looked away and mumbled, "We had only three Grey Wardens: Riordan, Alistair and myself. Riordan, as oldest, had the right to take the final blow and he tried…If not for his sacrifice, I might never have succeeded."

Aedan stopped speaking as he remembered the final battle and the awful moment of Riordan's death. He'd only known the older warden for such a short time, but he'd greatly admired his sense of duty and resolve.

"If I had also fallen, Alistair would have had to take that final blow himself. Leliana, I could not allow him to die. We had worked so hard to raise an army, we had sacrificed so much to make him king." Aedan looked up again, meeting her eyes to try and make his point, "I did it for him...I did it for Alistair. I could not let him die."

Leliana's expression was oddly cautious and he realized she understood what he'd said so far. She had been there, by their sides, that entire year. She'd lived through the hardships and the battles and she'd fought as hard to make Alistair king as he had. But she was thinking, he could see that, and he felt a cold dread begin to form in the pit of his stomach as he followed her thought processes to their inevitable conclusion. Then she asked the question he did not want to answer, the question he wasn't sure he _could_ answer, "Aedan, you are a good man, and I believe you would do anything to save those you love…but why are you so tormented by this? The ritual with Morrigan…" she stopped and he saw the fear in her eyes as she whispered, "Oh, Aedan… was it blood magic?"

He shook his head vehemently, "No, I would never…" but he stopped here. Had what he'd done been any better? Leliana was waiting and he summoned the courage to continue. "It was not blood magic, but very old magic, or so she said. Leli, I had to…I had to…"

The colour had drained from her face and she was very still. He had to finish this, it had to be done. "I had to lay with her so that she would conceive a child." Aedan felt that tearing sensation again and he felt oddly adrift from himself. He wanted to take the words back, but it was too late and it was as if he could still see them there, hanging in the air between them.

Leliana made a sound and it was the most awful thing he'd ever heard. She leaned away from him, her face filled with pain.

Aedan tried to speak, but words caught in his throat. Leliana stood and barely pausing to grab her robe, fled from the room.

--=0=--

Alistair heard a loud bang and a muffled cry followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. This was immediately followed by yet another bang. He glanced at the window and saw it was just after dawn. He was on the verge of grumbling about the noise when he heard something that sent chills down his spine. It was Aedan's voice and he was calling out Leliana's name. He sounded as if he was in desperate pain. Alistair quickly threw aside his blankets and leapt from the bed. Something must be wrong with Leliana. His thoughts quickly reached one inevitable conclusion – something was wrong with the baby.

As Alistair reached the hall he saw Aedan, shirtless, disappearing toward the atrium. He called to him, but the man didn't hear. Thinking Aedan might have gone to seek help Alistair steeled his nerves and entered the room across the hall, Aedan's bedroom. The room was covered in grey shadows and the dawn light from the window did not quite reach the bed. He could hear nothing and that frightened him. There was a lamp on the table by the window and he walked over to it, lit it, and scanned the room. It was empty.

Alistair fought rising panic. He adored both Aedan and Leliana. They had been amongst the first companions together. He had been nearly as overjoyed as Aedan to learn of the child they had conceived, knowing what it meant to Aedan in particular. The thought that something might be wrong was almost too sad to contemplate. Keeping a hold of the lamp, Alistair quickly left the room. Upon entering the hall he debated – should he follow Aedan or rouse Fergus? The decision was made for him as the Teryn stepped from his room and gave Alistair a startled look.

"Is everything alright Alistair? Are you well?"

Alistair shook his head quickly and said, "Not me, it's Leliana, I think there may be a problem with…with the baby." He nearly whispered those last words.

Fergus paled and quickly reached to close his door behind him before stepping towards Aedan's room, "Is she in here?" he asked.

Alistair shook his head, "No, I just checked. Aedan was running toward the atrium when I awoke."

Fergus frowned and moved in the same direction, beckoning Alistair to follow. "Come," he said, "If you would look for Aedan, I will go wake Taren…we may have need of his skills."

Alistair nodded in quick agreement and the two men moved quickly toward the Atrium, passing through it and around one side of the main hall before they split apart to pursue their own errands.

Alistair found his way to the kitchens, startling the cook and two elves helping her organize breakfast for the many, many guests in the castle. All three of them blushed and dipped curtseys and Alistair felt foolish standing there in his sleep attire. He held up a hand to forestall their stuttering and asked, "Have Aedan or Leliana passed by here?"

He had already spun on his heel to a chorus of, "No, Your Majesty" before it was finished, having seen by their faces the answer to his question. His next stop was the main hall. It was deserted. He walked through and entered the courtyard between the hall and the massive castle doors. One of the doors was slightly ajar and there were two guards, one to either side.

Alistair asked and they confirmed that both Leliana and Aedan had left the castle. Alistair was now quite confused. Why would they leave the castle? He slipped between the gates and followed the path around the outside, deeming the road to Highever the least likely possibility. He rounded the first corner and came to the gardens. He heard the low murmur of Aedan's voice and a quiet sob. He stopped.

Putting the now useless lamp aside, Alistair entered the garden. Aedan was kneeling down, hovering over Leliana who was sitting on the stone path, curled into at tight ball, sobbing. His bare feet made no sound and the couple did not hear him approach until he inquired, "Aedan?"

Aedan turned around sharply, his whole posture stiffening and his face held an expression of deep anguish.

Alistair tried again, "Aedan is Leliana alright? Fergus has gone for Taren…does she need a healer?" He hesitated before asking, "Is it the baby?"

Aedan shook his head and lifted a hand to shoo him away, the pain on his face only deepening as he croaked, "No, go away…please Alistair…just go away."

Alistair was hurt and alarmed at the same time. He stepped backwards and fumbled for the lamp. He hesitated at the entrance, but Aedan turned and waved him away again, his expression now pleading. Alistair left.

A pall settled over the castle and though no one really understood what had happened, everyone was affected by the mood. Rumours circulated amongst the staff regarding Aedan and Leliana and the well being of the baby. Aedan and Leliana remained in the garden most of the morning and a guard was stationed discreetly near the entrance to ensure their continued privacy. No healer was sent for, but this fact did little to dispel the gossip.

Oghren and Philippe rallied the soldiers and wardens to arms, letting the men and women work out their curiosity and frustration on the open field behind the castle. Fergus participated in the exercises, though his attention wandered obviously and he would have many bruises to show for his efforts.

Alistair would have as many bruises as the Teryn. He was unable to concentrate from worry. He had come to the conclusion shortly after being dismissed from the garden that there was only one reason for the trouble between Aedan and Leliana. Aedan had told her the truth about the ritual. It pained Alistair that his friend carried this burden and though he had not participated in the ritual, Alistair wore his own guilt. He'd told Aedan that he would have made the same choice, but more than once he had wondered if he really could have gone through with it. To save Aedan, yes, there is no doubt he would have done it to save his Brother, but to save himself? He would forever carry the knowledge that Aedan had done it for him, to save his life. He fervently prayed that the sharing of it with Leliana did not destroy everything his friend held dear.

Word came shortly before lunch that Aedan and Leliana had once again retired to Aedan's room and a guard was stationed outside their door to make sure they were not disturbed. Alistair found himself in the hall between their rooms a couple of times, exchanging blank looks with the guard, but there was no sound and no news. It was so quiet, they might have been sleeping.

Later in the afternoon most of the wardens gathered in the main hall. The atmosphere was subdued and most sat in groups of two or three, playing at cards or talking quietly. Without exception, everyone looked up as Aedan appeared in the doorway. He stepped backward under the scrutiny and there was much shuffling as the men and women attempted to turn their attention elsewhere. Aedan was very pale and he'd not taken the time to shave, the dark stubble only adding to his pallor. His eyes were shadowed, but the anguish in his face had faded somewhat. He looked incredibly weary. Alistair and Fergus both stood up and strode over to greet him. He nodded to his brother and Alistair and then with a shrug of apology to Fergus beckoned Alistair to follow him.

Alistair followed Aedan to Fergus's study and waited quietly for Aedan to close the door and turn around. They regarded one another silently for a moment before Alistair took the initiative, "You told her."

Aedan nodded mutely and then his composure dropped away and Alistair stepped forward to hug the man he considered his dearest friend, his Brother, and simply held him as he cried.


	19. Chapter 19

Gifts

Aedan walked slowly back toward his room, his limbs shaky with the release of emotion and his head heavy with exhaustion. When he reached the hallway separating his room from the one occupied by Alistair he dismissed the guard and stood contemplating his door. He hoped Leliana was still in there. She had asked him for some time alone earlier and he'd sought out Alistair knowing his friend was the only person who could possibly understand what today had been all about. And of course he had.

Stepping to the side of the door, he sank wearily to the floor and leaned back against the wall, his legs stretched out into the hallway in front of him. It was done, for better or worse, it was past. He could not undo any of it, the ritual or the telling of it. He rested his head against the cool stone of the wall and closed his eyes. He was so tired he fell asleep.

Sometime later he awoke. Fergus was crouched next to him, shaking his shoulder gently. He looked up and saw the concern on Fergus's face. He looked about and discovered it was night and he was stiff and cold from the stone at his back.

Fergus asked with a slightly embarrassed expression, "Aedan, do you need somewhere to sleep?"

Taking Fergus's offered hand as his brother stood back up, Aedan pulled himself to his feet and rubbed his eyes. He looked at Fergus and said, "I…I don't know." He looked at the door to his bedroom. "Fergus, I'm afraid to go in there."

Fergus nodded sympathetically and said, "You would rather face the darkspawn horde than walk through that door, right? It is odd, is it not, this fear we have when it comes to those we love?"

Aedan nodded and Fergus continued, "Go in there, little brother, and make it right. Seeing you two together…" he paused and swallowed, a soft shadow of grief filling his eyes, "Whatever this thing is, whatever is between you, just go in there and make it right."

Fergus rested a hand on his shoulder for a moment before nodding and disappearing down the hall towards his own room.

Aedan turned around and opened the door. Leliana was there and he breathed a sigh of relief. She was in the bed, sleeping. He noted with further relief that she had eaten the dinner that had been sent up. He crossed to the bed and stood watching her sleep for a short while as he tried to decide between lying down beside her and sleeping in the chair. The cold stiffness of his back decided for him and he eased down onto the bed, arranging himself carefully on his side so as not to disturb her. He gazed at her face until he his eyelids grew heavy.

When he opened his eyes again it was early morning. Leliana was there. She was facing him, her head propped on her elbow, watching him sleep. Their eyes met and held and they regarded one another in complete silence for several minutes. Aedan held perfectly still as he gazed at her pale face. Her eyes were of the clearest blue and they were solemn in the soft morning light.

Aedan finally broke the silence, whispering in a hopeful voice, "You're still here."

Leliana moved forward then and tucked her head beneath his chin, turning so as to rest her cheek against his chest. He slowly lifted an arm and curled it behind her back and she snuggled forward again, slipping an arm around waist. They stayed like that for long while and Aedan began to relax. He closed his eyes and was on the verge of falling asleep once more when Leliana spoke.

Her voice was low and muffled against his chest and she said, "I am where I belong."

He tightened his arm about her and held her closer a moment. He could think of nothing else to say except, "I'm so sorry, Leli."

She lifted her head and held a finger to her lips before replying, "Sh, do not apologise, Aedan. Remember, I also know what it's like to keep secrets."

He looked down at her upturned face and inclined his head gently to acknowledge her words. Leliana knew all about secrecy, her life as a bard had nearly consumed her before she had joined the chantry in Lothering.

He drew in a breath and asked the question he most feared the answer to, "Could you ever…will you forgive me?"

She shook her head and he stopped breathing as a quick pain stabbed through his chest. Then she said, "You do not need _me_ to forgive you, Aedan. You need to forgive yourself."

Aedan cringed, as a task it felt insurmountable. Leliana smoothed his brow with her fingers and continued, "What I will do is love you, always."

When Aedan entered the dining room hand in hand with Leliana, it was if sunshine preceded them through the doorway. A smile lit up every face and they were greeted enthusiastically. Alistair seemed particularly overcome by emotion and stood up to cross the room to hug them both quite fiercely. He was quickly followed by Fergus. Oghren called from his place, "I thought the weddin' was tomorrow, what's all this sodding hugging about?"

Aedan was reluctant to part company with Leliana at any point throughout the afternoon, but was eventually told, gently, that he should go get some exercise while the women fussed over Leliana's last minute preparations. He did so and much to his surprise, enjoyed himself. Zevran stepped up to challenge him to a sparring match. He accepted, knowing the intense concentration required to outwit the assassin would help him regain his focus and put aside for a time the lingering hurt and guilt. He understood Leliana's plea that he forgive himself, but he also understood that it wasn't going to happen today…or tomorrow.

They warmed up slowly, exchanging strikes and parries in a choreographed fashion until they were limber, then Zevran advanced with his trademark quickness. Aedan nearly missed the block and pressed back harder, trying to slip beneath the elf's guard. They both brought their skill to bear then, trading hits and misses with equal ferocity until Zevran finally scored the winning point. Aedan did not begrudge him the win. In fact, he'd be worried if he ever bested the rogue.

Aedan and Zevran sat side by side afterwards and cleaned their collection of weapons, they were soon joined by Alistair and eventually Oghren wandered over as well. They'd amassed between them quite the collection of swords, daggers and axes throughout their quest to end the Blight and as each piece was cleaned and admired they reminisced upon its origin, entertaining the gathering wardens and soldiers with their stories.

Soon there was a call for ale and as the afternoon progressed toward evening the gathering on the field took on an air of celebration. Fergus had joined the party and had organized for dinner to be served outside and a bonfire lit. It was a mild evening and it was obvious everyone was enjoying the atmosphere. The women arrived just before the food and Aedan quickly picked out Leliana from the small group, beckoning her to his side. They exchanged a lingering kiss drawing whoops and catcalls from the assembled crowd and sat together enjoying the company of their friends.

It was Fergus who eventually broke up the party, stating, "Let's save some celebrating for tomorrow, shall we?" This was greeted with a round of amused agreement as people began to gather together discarded gear and ale mugs and make their way back to the castle.

The day of the wedding dawned clear and bright and the excitement in the air was tangible. Once again Aedan was banished from Leliana's company and he spent the morning with his brother and his friends. The wedding was set for the late afternoon and as the hour approached he found himself pacing back and forth in Fergus's study while Fergus and Alistair looked on in enjoyment. He had taken meticulous care with his grooming and donned the clothing Leliana had brought from Denerim for him. Fergus pronounced him presentable and Alistair had approved, though they had to keep telling him to stop pulling at his collar and tugging at his hair.

Leliana had requested ceremony take place in the garden and Aedan had readily agreed. He thanked the Maker it was such a fine day. Leliana was beautifully dressed in a gown that matched the colours and patterns in Aedan's own clothing and they made a striking pair. Though Aedan appreciated her beauty, he wouldn't have minded if she'd stepped up in her drakeskin leather. He'd have been happy if she arrived in a hessian sack, he admitted to himself, so grateful was he to just have her there. But as she stepped to his side he dutifully and truthfully told her how stunning she was and she answered in kind. They joined hands and faced Mother Adele.

The banquet was held in the main hall and as he stepped through the door, Aedan caught his breath. He was reminded so strongly of Fergus's wedding that he turned to find his brother and caught the same expression upon the man's face. They exchanged a glance and Aedan nodded, Fergus returning the gesture as they moved to their seats. Aedan gazed around the hall as he sat down and noted how many friends he had present, how they had all dressed in their finest clothing, and just how happy they all seemed to be here. He felt humbled. He took Leliana's hand and leaned back in his chair to enjoy the party.

After dinner Fergus rose to a round of cheers and called for everyone's attention. He looked wistful as he gazed at Leliana and Aedan. Aedan dipped his head a moment, knowing how this day must be affecting his brother and then looked up again as Fergus began to speak. The Teyrn related two of stories about Aedan's rambunctious youth that had the assembled guests in fits of laughter.

Fergus then cleared his throat and looked directly at him and said quietly, "Mother and Father would have been so proud, little brother." Fergus looked down and shook his head before regaining his composure.

He lifted his head and gestured to the doorway. Two of the castle staff entered carrying a small box and a sword. The box was passed to Leliana and when she opened it her gasp was audible in every corner of the room. Aedan was equally astonished. Within a slim velvet lined case lay the necklace his father had given his mother on their wedding day. It was a Cousland family heirloom. Aedan was speechless as he looked at Fergus and he could only mouth a 'thank you' to his brother over the lump in his throat.

The sword was presented to him and he wordlessly admired the fine dragonbone blade and intricately worked hilt which was set with the distinctive heraldry of the Couslands. Finding his voice, he thanked Fergus sincerely. He'd have hugged the sword if he could and Leliana laughed as she commented on his besotted expression.

Aedan was astounded by the generosity of his friends. Zevran stood and winked at Leliana before sharing probably the least risqué story he could remember of his travels with the companions. The combination of his Antivan accent and delivery had the guests nudging each other and laughing before it was over. Aedan had never before really appreciated the depth of friendship between the two rogues and he counted himself lucky he had courted Leliana first. Zevran then presented them with a matching pair of Antivan Crow daggers. The guests laughed good naturedly at the gift of yet more weapons, but Zevran shrugged and confessed his own obsession with fine daggers asking, "And what is wrong with that?"

Oghren openly leered at Leliana, but in such a way that it was harmless and funny. As his gift was brought in a hush fell over the crowded room. The quiet was broken by a snuffle and squeal and Leliana leapt to her feet and exclaimed over the nug that had been led in on a short leather leash. Oghren gruffly explained that though he had _no idea_ what had happened to her previous pet, he hoped this one would suffice. Aedan, Alistair and Zevran laughed loudly at the flush that claimed the dwarf's face as Leliana walked over and bent to kiss his cheek in thanks. He presented Aedan with a bottle of liquor he guaranteed would cause hair to sprout on the warrior's chest. Aedan tried to keep the alarmed expression from his face as he tendered his own thanks.

Several of the wardens including Philippe and Jean had small tokens for the newlyweds and there was much shuffling and humour as Aedan and Leliana thanked their companions for their thoughts and kindness. As the room quieted down once more, Alistair stood and called everyone's attention.

Alistair looked every bit the King of Ferelden in his fine clothing and his posture, while relaxed, had that regal bearing Aedan had first noted a his coronation. Alistair nodded toward Taren and said, "Taren and I have been working on a little something we think you might like, but we're saving that for tomorrow."

The mage looked pleased and proud to have been working on such an important gift and Aedan could only wonder at what they had been up to. He put aside his curiosity as Alistair began a round of toasts. He first raised his cup and called for a toast to the happy couple, then a simple toast to friendship. As everyone put down their drinks for the second time, Alistair looked over at Aedan and began to speak.

"There is no title I esteem more than 'Friend'." Alistair took a moment to meet the eyes of all the wardens and guests, letting them know he considered them all as such before continuing.

"However I have another to bestow upon my Brother, one he does not yet have. As he has a history of trying to refuse every other title I have offered, I did not ask his opinion this time." Alistair smiled and paused here as laughter rose and he waited for it to subside before continuing.

"When Aedan became a Grey Warden, he gave up his name and his nobility. While this appears to be of little concern to the Hero of Ferelden, the Grey Warden Commander and the King's Chancellor, now that he has taken a wife and will soon have a child, I thought this was something that should be rectified."

Alistair paused again and looked directly at Aedan as if daring him to refuse the gift he was about to offer. Aedan smiled tightly at his friend, hoping his apprehension did not show and clutched at Leliana's hand as he waited.

"Aedan, this gift is for your new family. It is for your heir, so that he, or she, will always have a place, an important place in Ferelden. I hereby confer upon you the title of Teyrn of Gwaren and all that it entails; the estate and lands to be held by you and your descendants."

Aedan's immediate reaction was to stand up and refuse and he felt Leliana tug upon his hand, pulling him to his seat. He looked at her and she shook her head at him, but she was smiling and over the roar of approval from the guests, he could not hear what she said. He leaned close to her and she repeated herself, "I hope you intend to thank your King when you stand up, my beloved husband."

So that is what he did.


	20. Chapter 20

Templar Secrets

It was late morning by the time Aedan and Leliana left their room and the castle was eerily quiet after the festivities of the evening before. Leliana was dressed in her drakeskin leathers, much to Aedan's approval and he was delighted to be back in the well worn shirt and pants he favoured. As they had dressed, Aedan had asked Leliana when she thought she might start to show and they had both gazed at her still flat midriff in wonder. Aedan felt like a child waiting for a gift he was not allowed to open for seven months and Leliana had chuckled at his impatience.

They left the castle intending to take advantage of the continued good weather and get in some exercise with the other wardens. Upon reaching the field behind the castle he discovered they were not the only ones desiring a little fresh air to clear a foggy head. He sighed ruefully to himself as he mentally questioned once again the decision to open that bottle of Oghren's. He was interested to see if Alistair and Fergus agreed with his assessment: never again. Oghren of course had seemed immune to the stuff. Zevran had refused to try it.

Alistair and Fergus were engaged in conversation off to one side of the large open field. Aedan paused to kiss Leliana lightly on the lips before walking over to join them, leaving her in the company of Zevran and Kayley. The pained squint Fergus gave him as he turned his head and the sun caught him directly in the eyes confirmed his suspicions in one case at least. Alistair moved his head more slowly and Aedan grinned in delight as his friend's pale countenance confirmed a similar regret.

Fergus greeted him with, "My Lord" and Aedan scowled good-naturedly before returning the very same greeting.

Aedan turned to Alistair and said with a smile, "You do realize you've practically handed Ferelden over to the Couslands? I can already imagine the rumblings at the Landsmeet…"

Alistair rolled his eyes and said, "Yes, yes, Eamon has already been quite vociferous on that point…among others."

Aedan raised a brow, "Oh? Care to enlighten us?"

Fergus answered, "Apparently Eamon is seeing ghosts."

Aedan scratched his head a minute and then it dawned, "I see. He sees me as another potential 'Loghain', does he?"

Aedan exchanged a look with Alistair then, one that conveyed they were both having the same thought. Aedan could not conceive a situation in which he would betray Alistair and he shuddered inwardly. He put a hand to his forehead, "This talk makes my head pound."

Alistair chuckled, "You too?" and Fergus added with a pained sigh, "I felt as if I'd been poisoned this morning. I do not want to know what was in that bottle."

They exchanged a laugh and then Fergus excused himself, leaving Aedan alone with Alistair.

Aedan looked at his friend and Alistair returned the look and they laughed as once again each knew what the other was thinking. Alistair then said, "You would have refused it! I didn't do it just for you, you know."

Aedan nodded and replied, "I know…and somewhere inside I appreciate the gesture." He paused and rubbed his sore temples again before adding, "Leliana would always have had a place here at Castle Cousland, but knowing that she and our child will be independent after I'm gone…there is a certain comfort in that."

As Aedan articulated these thoughts he realized that he _was_ truly grateful and so he continued with, "Thank you Alistair, it is a gift beyond measure."

Aedan saw that Alistair understood this was his proper 'thank you' and the king smiled as he accepted it. Then he clapped his hands together and said, "Speaking of gifts, Taren eagerly awaits our presence!"

At an indication from Alistair, Aedan collected Leliana and they walked back to the castle to meet Taren. He was waiting in the library and it did not escape Aedan's notice that a guard was placed outside the door and that the library was empty but for the four of them.

Taren was reading and he hastily put the book aside as he rose to greet them. His face was lit with excitement and Aedan wasn't sure if he should be as excited or simply worried. Alistair said quietly to Taren, "Is everything prepared?"

The mage nodded his assent and folded back a layer of cloth resting on the table. Beneath the fold, resting against the black velvet were two amulets. They were beautifully formed and exquisite in their simplicity. The chain was made of fine silver links twisted in a way that both caught and reflected light and the pendant was a simple heart with what appeared to be a clear gem in the centre.

Leliana caught her breath and put a hand to her mouth and then looked from the mage to the king and said, "Oh, they are beautiful."

Aedan agreed, "Yes, Alistair, Taren…they are." He shook his head before adding, "But you have already given us so much!"

Alistair smiled but as he spoke his face assumed a more somber expression. "There are going to be times when you two will be separated, often by great distances," here he was referring to the upcoming trip to Orlais on which Leliana was to accompany him. "As a Grey Warden you are compelled to meet the darkspawn wherever they may be and very soon Leliana will not be in a position to join you in battle."

They all nodded soberly at this. Though Aedan was not particularly happy over losing a month with his new wife as she traveled to Orlais, he knew without a doubt that the separation would be one of many in the years to come.

Alistair waved a hand at the amulets and said, "Our hope," he inclined his head toward Taren, "is that with these amulets you will be able to maintain a…link with one another." He shrugged as if lacking the proper words to describe what he meant. He indicated that Taren should continue.

"The gem in the centre is hollow and when properly prepared will become something like a phylactery. You will be able to sense one another's presence and direction over a certain distance." Taren explained.

Aedan's eyebrows rose in alarm and he couldn't help the chill that tickled down his spine. Not long after Ostagar he and Alistair had talked at camp one night about what it took to become a templar and the subject of phylacteries had come up. They contained a specially preserved sample of a mage's blood and were used by templars to track maleficar, or rogue mages.

He looked to Alistair and said, "But I have no templar training." Leliana was nodding in agreement, her face also somewhat disturbed.

Alistair said quietly, "It is a small trick and something I can teach you…if this is something you both desire."

Aedan grinned slyly at Alistair and said, "Prepared to divulge templar secrets are we?"

Alistair returned the grin and with a little shrug said, "Grey Warden secrets, Templar secrets…once you start its hard stop, right?"

This broke the tension and they all chuckled quietly a moment. Alistair looked from Aedan to Leliana and continued, "To most, these will appear simple amulets, tokens of affection. If we go ahead with this, I would not advise sharing their nature with someone you did not trust." He paused here before asking, "So, what do you think?"

Aedan looked at Leliana and touched her on the arm. She looked up at him and they searched each other's faces for answers. Though Aedan could not shake the odd sense of foreboding that had crept upon him, the idea of being able to 'feel' Leliana's presence when she was in Orlais was more than attractive. She nodded to him and he turned to Alistair and Taren and said, "Let's do this then."

They each provided a small sample of blood using the keen edge of one of Zevran's Antivan daggers. Aedan knew he would not be telling Zevran just how that blade had first become bloodied. Then they watched and waited while Taren prepared the amulets. As he handed them over, Aedan noted they felt no different from any simple pendant. Aedan wore an enchanted amulet he called Reflection which he'd received during the trial of the Gauntlet on their quest for the sacred ashes of Andraste. Aedan never removed Reflection and he was always aware of the enchantment it carried as being a small tingle against his skin.

Alistair nodded at Taren and the mage left the library. Aedan looked up from examining the amulet and listened intently as Alistair explained and then demonstrated how they worked. As Alistair had indicated, it was a simple matter of focus. The connection he had with Leliana clearly defined his thoughts and he found it easy to do. When he held the pendant in the palm of his hand and thought about it in a certain way, it was as if he felt a mental tug and when he looked up, he was staring right at Leliana. She was looking right back at him. They shared a surprised smile and looked at their hands once again, repeating the process.

After they had done this several times and were giggling at each other in delight, Alistair folded his arms across his chest and said in an amused tone, "Well, I can see the pendants appear to be working."

It was Leliana who replied, "This is amazing, Alistair, thank you." Aedan echoed her sentiment, "Yes, thank you."

Alistair waved off their thanks and said, "You should head outside the or perhaps try to find one another from different rooms…get a feel for them over a little distance."

Aedan nodded, took Leliana's hand, and said, "We'll play hide and seek. You better get moving, my love, because when I find you…" he trailed off and winked at her. She laughed and skipped from the room. When Aedan turned back toward Alistair, his friend was rolling his eyes at him. Aedan just smiled.

Alistair returned the smile and then with a carefully neutral expression asked, "All is well between you two?"

Aedan couldn't help replying with, "Well she did marry me didn't she?" before sobering and adding more thoughtfully, "For the most part, yes. I am a lucky, lucky man."

"Yes, you are," Alistair agreed and they shared a moment of thoughtful silence before Aedan spoke again.

"Alistair, thank you again for…everything. All I ever gave you was some old sword I found in the Deep Roads and here you shower me with titles and gifts every time I turn around." That old sword had been Topsider's Honor and Alistair still carried it. Aedan knew it meant more to his friend than some old sword, but still, it felt woefully inadequate.

Alistair replied, "You have given me a lot more than some old sword, Aedan, and you well know it."

Aedan said, "So, are we even yet?"

They both laughed quietly at this and Aedan left to find Leliana.

He hoped she'd hidden somewhere private. She had, but they soon found the storeroom was not as private as it first appeared. Aedan had just managed undo the belt to Leliana's leathers when they were interrupted by door opening. In the sliver of light that slanted into the dim room through the open doorway Aedan discerned two figures slipping through and closing the door behind them. He heard a soft giggle and then a low murmur in a very distinctive accent.

"Zev?" he whispered.

"Aedan?" the Antivan answered and Leliana betrayed her presence with a quick laugh.

Aedan asked, "What are you doing in here?"

Zevran answered drily, "Apparently the same as you."

The door opened again startling all four of them and a servant backed through carrying one end of a table top from the banquet the previous evening. He was followed by another man holding the other end. A lamp was balanced on the table top and as the room became lit the two servants gaped at the four people standing in the shadows. The first one recovered his composure with admirable speed and bobbing his head to Aedan, addressed him with, "Is there something I can help you find, my Lord?"

Aedan opened his mouth and closed it again and Zevran chuckled before answering for him, "His shirt, perhaps?"

Aedan looked down and cursed before leaning over to retrieve his shirt from the pile of sacks behind Leliana who was unsuccessfully trying to stifle her continued laughter. All four hastily left the room, Zevran pulling a furiously blushing Kayley by the hand while Leliana helped tug Aedan's shirt back over his head. They stood in the hall trying to compose themselves for a moment before Aedan leaned over to whisper something to Zevran. The elf grinned and with a wave of one hand turned slipped into the shadows, Kayley following him.

Aedan turned to face Leliana and she was looking at him questioningly. Aedan shrugged and said with a little smile, "This old castle has more than one storeroom."

He slipped an arm about Leliana's shoulders and they walked in the opposite direction. They exited the narrow corridor near the main hall just as Philippe stepped from the wide door. He looked up and said, "Ah, Commander. Shall we go over our plans and the travel arrangements one final time?"

Philippe was leaving Highever tomorrow and the rest of the guests would be departing the day after. The very thought of the upcoming month sapped the last of the mirth from Aedan's expression. The last few days, with one notable exception, had felt like a holiday and he couldn't help a lingering feeling of regret that this wasn't his lot in life – to be simply a noble again, to spend the majority of his days and nights in the company of his family.

The meeting was brief as they were only finalizing arrangements that had been made before leaving Amaranthine. Philippe, Aedan and Leliana were joined in the library by Alistair and Oghren and they talked for a while of what Alistair and Leliana hoped to accomplish in Val Royeaux. Alistair would be sailing with the tide two mornings hence with Leliana, Oghren and his contingent of Ferelden soldiers.

Zevran and the five more experienced wardens would be traveling with Aedan to Lake Calenhad. Taren had spoken of talented senior enchanter that had expressed interest in becoming a Grey Warden and Aedan was eager to meet her. No one could replace Wynne in his mind, but another mage was always welcome. From there they would circle the lake to Redcliffe and follow the West Highway back to Denerim and Amaranthine. They would be looking for recruits and darkspawn. Aedan expected the journey to take about a month and hoped to meet Alistair and Leliana back in Denerim when they returned from Orlais.

Philippe, with his rank of Senior Warden, would be returning to Amaranthine with the three newer wardens to continue training and recruitment efforts.

Once everyone had finished reviewing their separate agendas the companions chatted amiably until early evening.

Dinner was a subdued affair. Though most had escaped the abuse of Oghren's peculiar bottle of liquor, there had been ale aplenty the previous evening and there were a lot of hastily covered yawns and gaps in conversation.

Only Aedan, Alistair and Fergus were still sitting at one end of the table talking quietly when the messenger arrived. He was hollow cheeked and his eyes carried the deep shadow of someone who has not slept in many days. Darkspawn had been sighted south of Redcliffe and Bann Teagan, who was running the estate in Eamon's absence, was appealing to the Grey Wardens for assistance in driving them back once again.

The messenger was sent for a meal and some much needed sleep while Aedan bid Alistair and Fergus good night. He would have to make an early start in the morning. His campaign would begin a day before it was originally intended.


	21. Chapter 21

The Shadows

Aedan came awake to a darkened room and blinked his eyes a moment. He wasn't sure what had caused him to wake, but didn't think it had been a dream. Thank the Maker he had not dreamed of Morrigan since his confession. With a twist of guilt he wondered if confession four month ago may have prevented many sleepless nights. A sound interrupted his thoughts and he realized that was what must have awoken him. Turning his head toward the sound he just caught himself before he gasped. The window was ajar and shadowed figure had just slipped through, landing almost soundlessly on the stone floor. Aedan tensed his muscles beneath the covers, ready to spring, hoping the intruder still believed their cover of stealth had not been broken. He ached to turn his head and check on Leliana, but he did not dare.

As he squinted in vain at the window the figure slipped into shadow once more and Aedan inwardly cursed the moonless night. He gave into temptation and rolled over, trying to imitate the torpor of sleep, throwing his arm across Leliana and swallowing drily when he found she was still there. There was a tension to her and he realized she was awake also, lying still as well, and probably as aware as he of the intruder. His eyes were adjusting to the dimness of the room now and he could see her move her head slightly, a barely perceptible nod. He laid still again, ears straining, and could hear nothing but the sound of his own blood pounding in his ears.

The bed suddenly dipped behind him and he snapped backward, flinging his arm in an arc behind himself, hoping to catch the trespasser by surprise. He connected with something solid and then his arm was caught and pinned back. Aedan felt the sting of a very sharp blade slice across the inside of his forearm as he continued rolling over, bringing his other arm up. That arm was caught also and both his arms were now pinned together. He tried to roar in frustration but was cut off by a dizzying blow to his temple. He saw stars and shook his head.

The mattress dipped and rose behind him and he heard a grunt, a muffled thud and silence. Aedan was now in an awkward position. He had tried to pull his legs out from under the covers as he'd rolled, but had been unsuccessful and now his back was twisted slightly and without the use of his arms he had no leverage. He kicked his legs again and started growling, his volume rising as his frustration built. Suddenly there was a blade at his throat and a whisper just beside his ear. "Struggling just makes the poison work faster."

Aedan froze. What had happened to Leliana? He opened his mouth and said, his voice sounding somewhat strangled, "Leli." His legs were beginning to tingle.

Aedan tried to turn his head and was allowed to do so. He gazed desperately in Leliana's direction and was utterly stunned to find she was being restrained by yet another shadowed figure, a dagger held carefully at her throat. There were two of them? Aedan sagged gently and felt the bite of the blade at his neck. He asked, "What do you want?" His tongue felt thick.

The figure replied, "Your secrets, Commander."

Aedan felt a chill at 'commander', he knew that voice. Why would they call him commander? He then realized the chill wasn't entirely from the sound of the voice, he was starting to feel cold all over, and numb. He tried to speak again but found his mouth no longer obeyed him and all that came out was an odd gagging noise.

There were two reactions to his sound. Leliana whimpered and he could hear her struggling against her assailant. The man holding him said, "That's better," then eased him back toward the mattress.

Aedan immediately tried to move and discovered he couldn't…even breathing was becoming difficult now and a panicked fluttering was rising within his chest. He tried to make more noise and only produced a rasping this time.

The shadowed figure sheathed his dagger and grabbed Aedan by the shoulders. With a slight grunt he then proceeded to drag Aedan from the bed and onto the floor, and then maneuver him underneath the bed. Aedan tried to order his mind, but his thoughts seemed as sluggish as his breath and he could only come up with one thought: Why are they putting me under the bed?

His question was answered however when the figure knelt down and whispered nearly soundlessly next to his ear. "If you stay calm the poison may spare you. I am sorry, Commander, I waited as long as I could. I will do my best to see she is not harmed."

He heard the other intruder, the one holding Leliana say softly but clearly, "Quickly, now, you take her feet." The shadow beside him rose and he could see the soft leather boots move out of side around the bed.

Leliana, they were taking Leliana! Aedan screamed inside himself and tried desperately to make his body move but it was becoming increasingly hard to concentrate and his breath was labored. A part of his mind knew he needed to calm down before the poison interacted too heavily with his increased adrenaline but he found it impossible in the face of losing Leliana. He started to choke and wheeze and the only sound he could hear was his own pulse pounding in his ears – and it was slowing down. Each pulse seemed to reverberate inside his skull and his consciousness was starting to ebb away. With a final rasp of breath he slipped under.

--=0=--

Alistair was not surprised to find Fergus in the dining room ahead of him. Fergus would be saying good bye to his brother today and Alistair had sympathy for the man. The castle would be a lonely place once all the guests departed, as lonely as Denerim had seemed without the constant company of his companions. He bid the Teyrn good morning and asked, "No sign of Aedan yet?"

Fergus shook his head and replied, "No and I am loathe to disturb them knowing this is their last morning together for some time."

Alistair could only nod in agreement. Aedan knew his duty and he would not tarry too long, of that he was sure. He helped himself to some breakfast and was just sitting down when Philippe appeared in the doorway.

"I understand a messenger arrived late last night," the senior warden said, "What news?"

Alistair answered, "Darkspawn south of Redcliffe. Aedan and his wardens will be leaving today instead of tomorrow."

Philippe looked alarmed. He spun on his heel and said, "I'll pass along the word then, have the wardens prepare their packs before they come to eat." He disappeared back down the hallway.

Alistair turned to Fergus and said, "I would be concerned that Aedan hadn't already talked to the wardens himself if I didn't understand his reticence to leave his room this morning. We can not indulge him much longer, however."

Fergus nodded in agreement and asked, "After we see Aedan off, will you accompany me to Highever to confirm that your ship is ready to sail tomorrow, or shall I take Oghren?"

Alistair scratched his chin thoughtfully and replied, "Why don't we see if Leliana would like to come? I'm sure she'd welcome the distraction today. I will come along also. I think Oghren would prefer one last day as far from the sea as possible."

They shared a grin and Fergus excused himself, leaving for his study. Alistair sat alone for while, simply letting his mind wander. He was glad the amulets had worked so well. He felt a certain amount of guilt regarding taking Leliana to Orlais but was immensely grateful she would be accompanying him. She had all but taken on Aedan's role of chancellor these past months and Alistair valued her advice as well as her skill in gathering and sifting information. Her first hand knowledge of Val Royeaux would be like a gift from the Maker himself as neither he, nor Oghren had ventured beyond Ferelden before.

It hadn't actually been as hard as might have imagined convincing Aedan to let her come along. Aedan had known he would be traveling hard over the next month or so and naturally he was concerned with Leliana's 'delicate condition'. Alistair couldn't help a grin of anticipation; he was nearly as excited to meet Aedan's child as they were. His musings were interrupted as Zevran and the other wardens filtered into the room, hungrily eyeing the breakfast spread. It was time to rouse Aedan.

The maid he sent returned saying there was no answer at her knock. Alistair frowned and excusing himself from the assembled wardens, went to check up on Aedan himself. He knocked on the door and when there was no answer, he cracked it open and peeked cautiously inside. The room was empty. The bed was made and the room was tidy. This in itself bothered Alistair. Aedan was meticulous with three things – his armour, his weapons and his boots. Any personal space he occupied was usually littered with discarded clothing and books. Perhaps Leliana was cleaning up after him?

He stepped back into the hall and returned to the dining room. He asked the assembled wardens if any of them had seen Aedan this morning. None of them had. Alistair was now seriously disturbed. Though part of his mind wanted to suggest Aedan had taken Leliana away somewhere early this morning, he seriously doubted the possibility. The warden commander was dedicated to his duty and despite his love for his wife, would not heedlessly endanger the lives of others while frittering away the morning hours. Something was wrong. Zevran was regarding him from across the room and Alistair beckoned him over.

"Zevran, would you mind heading outside and scouting the castle grounds for Aedan or Leliana or both, they are probably together, but…" he spread his hands, unable to articulate his fears. Zevran understood and immediately set off. It wasn't until he had handed out assignments to the rest of the wardens that Alistair noticed yet another absence. Jean was missing. He grabbed at Philippe's sleeve as the older man was about to pass through the door and asked, "Have you seen Jean this morning?"

Philippe raised his brows and said, "Actually, no, I have not. I will look in the chapel, it is where he is usually to be found before setting off to battle."

After an hour it became clear that Aedan, Leliana and Jean were missing. Seriously disturbed did not even begin to describe Alistair's state of mind as he and Fergus organized teams of soldiers to head into the forest and down to Highever. Alistair intended to join the search but Fergus reminded him that he was king and that if something foul was afoot, he needed to stay here at the castle with his guard. Though he felt like yelling in frustration, he could only agree.

As the search parties left Alistair decided to check Aedan's room again. He stepped inside this time and stood before the bed. He looked at the closet and thought to check inside. Leliana's clothes were all neatly arranged, confirming his earlier suspicions that someone else had been cleaning up after Aedan. Alistair had no idea how many dresses she owned, so he looked for something of Aedan's. The warrior's meager collection of threadbare shirts and one of the two pairs of pants Alistair could remember seeing him in were not to be found. Upon withdrawing his head from the closet, Alistair spied Aedan's pack on the floor. He unbuckled the straps and peeked inside – scrunched up shirts and pants. No wonder the warrior always looked as though he slept in his clothes! Alistair tried the armory next. Both Aedan and Leliana's weapons were there, along with Aedan's Warden Commander plate.

Cold fear began to seep into Alistair's thoughts. The fact that Aedan's pack was ready meant Aedan fully intended to leave for Redcliffe this morning. But the fact that his armour and weapons were still here disturbed him even more so. Was it really possible that Aedan might have taken Leliana and simply left? Alistair shook his head, no. It was not possible. Aedan would never abandon his duty, and where was Jean?

Alistair paced back and forth through the castle, unable to sit down. He started when Zevran appeared behind him and tapped his shoulder.

"We have searched the woods for an hour to the west of the castle and have found no clues, and no trail," the elf informed him. Zevran's eyes reflected his own worry.

Alistair quickly filled him in on his findings and Zevran stated firmly, "No, Aedan has not left of his volition; there is something more sinister afoot." Despite the increased panic this induced, Alistair was relieved Zevran agreed with him.

Zevran continued, "I would like to see Aedan's room, if you don't mind."

Alistair followed Zevran back to Aedan's room desperately hoping the former assassin would find clues he'd missed, yet also apprehensive as to what he would find.

Zevran stopped in the doorway and scanned the room before entering. He looked over every piece of furniture before stepping silently into the room. As Alistair had done, he went to the closet first. He opened it and examined the contents.

Then stepping around the bed, he moved over to the window and pushing it open, leaned out to look at the ground below. Alistair leaned over his shoulder and looked out. It was about an eight foot drop onto hard, packed earth. Not beyond the realm of possibility as an alternative exit.

Alistair leaned back and he and Zevran turned to face the bed. That's when they saw it. There was a slender dark stain on the floor, a thin smear really. It looked like blood.


	22. Chapter 22

Duty

Aedan had nearly drowned when he was nine. The rain had been heavy that spring and the river was high. Ignoring Fergus's warning to stay in the shallow water until he joined him, Aedan had struck out toward the centre, determined to swim across the swollen river. Fergus was eight years older and Aedan was tired of being the baby. He wanted to show his big brother he could do it on his own.

With Fergus yelling on the bank behind him to "Wait, wait for me!" he surged ahead. He had made it halfway before the current caught him and swept him downstream. He could hear Fergus yelling and as he spun about in the rushing water, he caught a glimpse of his brother running down the bank and diving into the river behind him.

He could hear Fergus yelling now above the roar of the water and he was trying to breathe, but it wasn't working and he felt like he was spinning around and around. He was trying to reach for something, anything to stop himself moving and spinning but his arms would not cooperate. Why was it so dark? Were his eyes closed?

Aedan tried to open his eyes and the sudden sting of light pained him. He was choking. The water must be in his lungs now. Why couldn't he feel it or see it? Why was it so bright now? He felt himself being rolled over and assumed the water was still carrying him, spinning him over and over until his cheek came to rest on cold stone. He was at the bottom of the river then. He didn't even try to breathe, certain the air would not come, and he closed his eyes against the light to wait for the end.

The end did not come. Instead he felt a pounding on his back and involuntarily he opened his mouth to draw a breath and found air. Aedan gasped it in greedily and choked again. He coughed and then tried again, more slowly. Fergus was still calling his name. He opened his eyes and saw the stone floor beneath his face and blinked in confusion. Where was the river? He looked up and Fergus was there, leaning over him, but he looked odd. He looked like older, more like their father. He closed his eyes again.

Fergus said, "No you don't little brother, open your eyes." There was a soft, repeated pat on his cheek and he complied, opening his eyes once again. Fergus was still there and he said, "There you are, stay with me now."

As he wasn't sure he could do anything other than lay there and breathe, Aedan did as he was told. He continued to draw in air and found it was getting easier and easier, the tightness in his chest was loosening and the roar of the water was receding from his ears. He tried to speak, "Fergus?"

Someone was kneeling next to Fergus now, a face he knew but couldn't place. The man gently placed a finger to his neck, feeling his pulse, and then nodded. He stood up and moved away. Aedan could hear more voices now, a noisy murmur in the background that he had mistaken for the sound of water.

He tried to move his arms. The floor was cold and he wanted to sit up, get warm and dry. No, wait, he wasn't wet. He said, "I'm not wet."

Fergus's face creased into a frown and he replied, "No, you are not wet."

One of Aedan's arms was behind him and the other rested on the floor in front of him. He flexed the fingers he could see and pushed against the floor, trying to sit up. All the voices in the room rose and there was a chorus of 'No' 'Watch it' and 'Steady'. Fergus helped him into a sitting position with the assistance of someone else behind Aedan's back. His head started to spin and his stomach lurched. He groaned and leaned forward, vomiting onto the floor. This left him very lightheaded and he decided it would be best if he lay down again. So he did.

Several pairs of hands then helped lift him from the floor and onto the bed. Fergus wiped his mouth and another man came forward with a cup of water. Again, it was a familiar face. He stared at the man, wondering who he was. The man sat on the edge of the bed and slipped a hand behind his head, helping him tip his face forward enough to drink. He said softly, "Slowly, just take a sip."

It was Alistair. Aedan knew him and he now remembered who had felt for his pulse. That was Taren. He groaned and closed his eyes, letting his head drop back and immediately the voices rose again. He opened his eyes and said, "Where am I?"

Fergus answered, "At home, Aedan, in Highever. Tell us what you remember."

He shuffled himself back against the headboard and eased himself into a sitting position. His head didn't swim as much this time and he breathed a sigh of relief. He looked around the room and was surprised to find it crammed with men. He blinked at them all and then looked down at himself. He was shirtless and in the pants he wore for sleeping and there was a livid cut on his forearm. He stared at the cut and he remembered.

"Leli," he whispered, and then louder, torturing his burning throat, "Where is Leliana?"

He glanced around the room and saw the alarmed and startled expressions. They didn't know! He pushed at Alistair and said, "Get up, we have to find her, they took her!"

Alistair hopped off the bed and reached back to help steady him. Aedan got to his feet and his legs buckled beneath him and he fell to his knees. He dropped his hands to the floor and crawled to the window. Grasping the sill he pulled himself to a standing position again, Fergus on one side and Alistair on the other. He looked out the window and called, "Leliana!"

Alistair was talking to him but he couldn't hear what the man was saying. Aedan turned to face him and said, "What?"

Alistair repeated himself, "Who took her Aedan, and when?"

Aedan gripped the window sill and pushed back, standing all the way up, swaying. His throat was so sore and every word grated. He turned and said, "They came in through the window and they poisoned me and they took her…two men. One of them…he called me commander, his voice…I knew his voice…but they were dressed in shadow, I could not see their faces."

Alistair's face was so sad when he replied that Aedan heaved in a quick breath which caught in his throat, causing him to wheeze and choke. He managed to growl out, "What?"

Alistair said, "We've been searching the estate and the town all morning for all three of you. There has been no sign. We found you under the bed an hour ago and have been trying to rouse you ever since." His expression was anguished and he nearly whispered, "We feared you were dead, you were so still and it did not seem you drew breath. Aedan, it looked like you'd killed an arch demon all over again."

Three? Aedan blinked in confusion and replied, "Three of us?"

The king nodded, "You, Leliana and Jean."

By the Maker, that voice! It was Jean! Aedan cried out, "Jean took her!"

Philippe gasped and Aedan turned to find the man standing across the room. He willed his legs to walk and shakily made it over to the Orlesian and grabbed him by the shirt. He yelled into his face, "What have you done with Leliana!"

Aedan's arms and legs were beginning to tremble and his chest was tightening. He adjusted the grip of his numbing fingers on the senior warden's shirt, now trying to keep himself upright and cried out more hoarsely, "Where have you taken her?"

His legs gave way and he dropped towards his knees nearly bringing Philippe down with him. The older man grabbed at his elbows just as Zevran caught his back and they eased his fall. He heard Zevran say, "This is a Crow poison. It passes quickly from the system, but until it is gone, he must remain calm or risk stopping his heart."

As the men absorbed this news in stunned silence, Alistair and Philippe once again helped Aedan to the bed as his body refused to cooperate. Zevran continued, "Whoever did this was very careful. It takes a precise measurement not to kill a man outright."

Aedan tried to talk and gagged again. He was slumped into a sort of sitting position on the bed, his back against the headboard. He let his head flop back and his eyes close as he fought for control, the very fighting for it eroding his calm.

Alistair had moved to Philippe's side and when Aedan opened his eyes, the king was talking to the warden in a low tone. "Philippe, you don't…you didn't…" Alistair trailed off, his eyes pleading the warden to deny any knowledge of this travesty.

Philippe shook his head vehemently and replied, "No!" He turned to face Aedan and putting his hands out before him, palms upward, said, "Commander, I had nothing to do with this. You must believe me!"

Aedan studied Philippe's face, looking for the treachery, but could not find it. All he found was the truth in the Orlesian's eyes. Philippe was as stunned by this revelation as he was. Aedan grunted, trying to articulate his understanding, but was still unable to talk properly.

Alistair was talking to Philippe again, "Philippe do have any idea where Jean may have taken Leliana?"

Philippe was nodding his head sadly, "He is so young, impressionable. I can think of only one destination. He will have taken her to Damien in Orlais."

Fergus quickly turned to the door and summoned a guard, "Go to Highever. Find out if any ships bound for Orlais departed on the morning tide!" The guard hastily bowed and ran.

Philippe continued, "What I do not understand, Alistair, is why he would take Leliana and not Aedan himself."

Terror rose in Aedan's chest and his limbs twitched and jerked as he began to shake. He looked at Alistair and the king returned his gaze, his eyes full of fear…and sorrow. Through stiff lips, his throat so hoarse he did not recognise his own voice, Aedan provided the answer, "Because she knows my secret."

Silence befell the room as the gathered men exchanged shocked glances. Only Alistair remained looking at Aedan, his expression fixed and his head still as if he were unable to tear his eyes away. Aedan had lost his focus and control again and he could feel his consciousness slipping away. He tried desperately to hold on. Alistair snapped from his trance and stepped forward to help ease his shaking shoulders back down against the pillows.

Zevran spoke up then, his voice thoughtful and considering, "Alistair is King. They could not capture him without provoking an international incident. Aedan as Chancellor and Warden Commander is equally important. Yet it is well known that Leliana is privy to sensitive information regarding both men." The former assassin then turned his gaze to Aedan and added, "Jean was supposed to kill you, Warden, yet I believe he deliberately spared your life, taking a great risk in doing so. His heart is not in this, I think."

There was a rumble of agreement and a lot of hissed breath and whispers following this pronouncement. It was Taren who finally spoke, somewhat timidly, "If I may suggest, gentleman, that we allow the commander to rest before he risks a heart attack?"

Aedan did not hear them leave, he succumbed to the darkness.

--=0=--

Alistair and Philippe were sitting with in Fergus's study with the Teyrn. Word had just arrived back from Highever. A ship had indeed departed for Orlais with the morning tide and there was no possibility of pursuit until their own ship left the following morning.

Aedan had been sleeping most of the afternoon and despite the shallowness of his breath, both Zevran and Taren had assured him that the warrior would be fine, that sleep was the best thing for him right now.

Philippe broke the uneasy silence that had befallen the small room, saying, "Alistair, I will depart for Redcliffe with the Wardens tomorrow. I will send the recruits back to Amaranthine by themselves for now. Aedan's soldiers are still there, keeping vigil, I am sure they can deal with any more recruits we might get in the next month."

Alistair looked up from contemplating his hands, "You need to take Aedan to Redcliffe with you tomorrow. Zevran assures me he will have recovered by the morning...physically." He studied the older warden's face carefully before adding, "He will need more than your help in fighting darkspawn, Philippe."

Fergus sat forward in his chair with his hands braced against the desk and asked, "Surely Aedan will travel to Orlais with you, Alistair?"

Philippe was shaking his head sadly as Alistair answered, "He is a Grey Warden, Fergus." Alistair closed his eyes and shook his head. He would never share Aedan's pain, but the anguish he felt was nearly unbearable as he looked again at Aedan's brother and continued, "It is his duty to fight the darkspawn. I will follow Leliana." Alistair gritted his teeth as he said this, balling his hands into tight fists and pounding them on his thighs. How he wished their roles were reversed, Aedan to be the one to follow Leliana to Orlais and he to fight the darkspawn.

Philippe said softly, but clearly, "This is why we wardens traditionally do not marry." He shook his head sadly.

Alistair turned to Philippe and said, "Tell me, Philippe, have you given any more thought as to why Jean might have done this?"

Philippe blew out a sigh and replied, "I am saddened and disturbed by this turn of events. I wonder if I should not have spoken so forthrightly about my suspicions regarding Damien in front of him. He is young and has been a warden for barely a year."

Alistair thought a moment before replying, "Who recruited him?"

"Well, it was Damien himself, but the Commander takes such matters seriously, this is not amiss." Philippe looked up and waved a hand, "But this speculation will not help us at the moment, it is Aedan we must discuss."

As if summoned by the mention of his name Aedan chose that moment to appear in the doorway. He leaned against the frame and said carefully, "And just what is it about me you wish to discuss?"

Alistair looked up sharply. Aedan looked a lot stronger than he had earlier in the day, but there was a slight tremor to his hands and he occasionally shivered as though he were chilled and could not warm himself. Zevran had assured them these symptoms would not linger and he hoped the rogue was right. The warrior's face was another matter, however, it was set like stone and an icy fury burned in his eyes.

Fergus got up and ushered Aedan to a chair, which he accepted grudgingly. He merely perched upon the edge of the seat, however, and leaned forward to look directly at him and said, "When do we leave for Orlais?"

Alistair glanced away from Aedan, first meeting Philippe's, and then Fergus's eyes before returning his gaze to warrior's face. He said, "Aedan, you cannot come to Orlais, you must…" He got no further.

Aedan leapt to his feet. "What…No!" he cried. He surged across the room and Alistair rose to meet him, grasping Aedan's arms and holding him in place. Aedan's face was inches from his. Alistair held his breath as Aedan closed his eyes and tried to compose himself and then said in an more quiet voice, "You are telling me I cannot go after my wife?"

Alistair took a deep breath and said as firmly as possible, trying to keep his voice emotionless, "Aedan, you are a Grey Warden, your duty…" Again, he got no further.

Aedan spun on his heel and strode across the room, stopping to pound his fists against the top of a bookcase. "Andraste's flaming sword!" he yelled. "How can you talk of duty right now?"

Something in Aedan's tone struck a chord and Alistair rounded on the warrior, "You think I don't know about duty?" he shot back.

By the Maker, he was King! It was a duty he'd never wanted, a duty that at times he still didn't want, if truth be told. He would have much preferred to remain a Grey Warden. Despite the continued darkspawn attacks, he envied Aedan his freedom, his autonomy, the love he shared with Leliana. No one judged this man's every move, no one carefully disguised their intentions toward him and no one shoved their daughters into his face every time he turned around. Alistair threw up his hands and made a flinging gesture, as if to throw it all away. These thoughts had no place here, Leliana must be found and the darkspawn halted!

"I am King, Aedan, and my people are dying! Darkspawn are in the south again and people are dying. Should we tell them to just hole up and wait until you're done throwing tantrums?" Alistair tried not to yell, but his voice had risen uncontrollably again. He paused to take a breath and then added more calmly, "Ferelden needs its Warden Commander."

He could see Aedan working furiously to control his emotions, but there was a grim acceptance in his posture when finally looked up. When Aedan spoke again, his tone was bleak.

Aedan looked him in the eyes and said, "I should have died on top of that tower. _All_ of this is my doing. What I did has destroyed the natural order of things for all time." His head dropped forward and his shoulders slumped. He continued, "I thought I was doing it to save you, Alistair, but I was wrong. How could I have been so blind?"

Fergus looked confused, but Philippe's expression was one of intense curiosity. Alistair remembered that the older warden did not yet know about the ritual, but it was obvious he was aware of what Aedan spoke.

He put out a hand and said warningly, "Aedan…"

Aedan looked up and appeared to notice then that they were not alone. He met his eyes and Alistair felt the last of his anger drain away as Aedan continued sadly, "What? You don't want them to know that the 'Hero of Ferelden' is just a sham? I saved my own wretched life and forever damned those I love." Oh Maker, this had to stop.

Alistair took a tentative step toward him. Aedan looked so forlorn. Alistair sighed softly, there were so many things he could say here, but somehow, none of it seemed appropriate. He finally settled upon, "I _will_ find her Aedan, you have my word."

Aedan's shoulders were shaking and it wasn't all due to the poison. Alistair put a hand gently on one shoulder and squeezed. Aedan did not respond. Swallowing drily, Alistair inwardly debated his next decision. He knew it would hurt the man, but it could help him gain an advantage in Orlais. He said, "Aedan…the amulet, I could use it to find her."

Aedan looked down at the amulet and took it possessively in his hand. He pressed the silver heart to his lips and closed his eyes. The warrior stood there silently for a few short moments before looking up again. The utter sorrow in his expression made Alistair want to back down and he nodded, prepared to let it go. He would find Leliana without the amulet. He would simply go straight to Damien and demand her return. If that didn't work he'd appeal to the Empress herself. He was a King. Surely he had that right? He started to tell Aedan this, he opened his mouth to speak, but Aedan suddenly uttered a strangled half cry and jerked the chain from his neck and dropped it into Alistair's waiting hand.


	23. Chapter 23

Andraste's Grace

Aedan stared into the flames of the campfire and tried not to think. He was so tired of thinking. His face was stiff and sore from his effort to keep it expressionless. Flicking his eyes away from the flames he examined the wardens grouped loosely on the other side of the fire. They were wary of him, he knew it. He was not the best company right now. He'd set a relentless pace yesterday – his fury and rage putting one foot in front of the other tirelessly for miles. Unable to keep the permanent scowl from his face he'd not engaged anyone in conversation, preferring to walk with only his thoughts for company. But after two days of this even his fury could not match the miles. He'd walked most of it out and while he moved, he was simply hollow. But now he was still...

Philippe was handing out watch assignments and Aedan did not miss the fact that he'd been excluded again. Scrubbing his face roughly with his hands, he sighed and stalked away from the camp fire, striking out into the woods. He needed to walk it off, this rising tension that made his limbs tremble and his hands shake. He wasn't ready to lie down and sleep yet. He would only think of Leliana and it seemed he'd never be able to shed enough tears over his lost love.

The thought of tears had him cursing his weakness again. He was a warrior! He had been responsible for so much death, it was not his place to cry. He wanted to give into the rage and the hatred that roiled within but there was nothing to hit but trees and rocks. Giving into such impulses would not end well. He would blunt his blades. He was also haunted by the memory of the first time he'd given into the fury of retribution – he'd nearly butchered a man into pieces.

The mental picture of Howe's face changed to Jean's and Aedan clenched his fists and ground his teeth. Damn Alistair for reminding him of his duty. He wanted to tear Jean apart. But every time he tried to hate Alistair for being the one that could go after Leliana, he found he couldn't. His shoulders sagged as he thought back to the night before they'd all departed Highever.

There had been a soft knock at his door just moments after he'd returned to his room. "Go away!" he'd answered. But the caller was persistent, knocking again, and when he refused to answer let himself in. Of course it was Alistair, just as he'd known it would be. He turned his back on him and stared out the window. Alistair stood silently behind him and it became a waiting game, one they'd never found out who would win as they'd been interrupted by yet another knock at the door.

Zevran had let himself into the room and taken stock of the two silent men, looking from one to the other thoughtfully. He'd then stepped to Aedan's side and said, "I wish to go to Orlais with Alistair, Aedan. I have been to Val Royeaux and I can be his guide as well as his eyes and ears."

Aedan glanced at the elf and gave an incoherent grunt. Zevran continued, "I gave you an oath, Warden, and that oath extends to Leliana as well. We _will_ find her."

It was all Aedan could do to simply nod and turn away again at the mention of Leliana's name. He heard Zevran exchange quiet words with Alistair and then he was alone with him once again. Alistair sighed and said, "Aedan, we will have no time to talk in the morning."

Aedan turned around and faced him. He wanted to say, 'Don't come back without her', but he knew the words were not necessary. After all the spent anger of the afternoon he needed a friend, and there he was, standing right before him. He wanted to say something to clear the air, but just couldn't find any words.

Finally, Alistair nodded as if to himself and turned away towards the door. He stopped just before it and said, "I just wanted to say good bye. I wanted to tell you…" he shrugged and hesitated. Then he said quietly, "Do you know how often I wished you were King and I were Warden Commander?" He waved a hand vaguely in the air and continued with, "But perhaps that is beside the point. I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry and that I will find her, Aedan."

Alistair had opened the door and turned one final time, saying, "Maker watch over you, Brother."

After the door closed, Aedan had responded uselessly to the empty room, "Maker watch over us all."

Now, slipping through the dark trees, he wished he'd gone after Alistair. After all they had been through together he sometimes felt a closer kinship with him than with his own brother. He should have said goodbye. He should have thanked him. Aedan sighed. It was just another bitter pill to add to all the loathing that swirled in his gut. Where were the bloody darkspawn when you need to kill something?

Aedan kicked at a fallen log in frustration and then sat down. The cool night air began to have a calming effect and as he took several deep breaths, the quietness of the forest soothed him. He turned to look over his shoulder and just caught a flickering of firelight between the distant trees, then turned his eyes back toward the darkness. He should head back to his tent. They needed an early start if they hoped to make the Circle Tower tomorrow.

He thought of Wynne then. Why was it always at times like these that he missed the mage so much? Probably because in the year they'd traveled together she'd dealt with his tantrums and Alistair's much as a mother might. She'd always listened thoroughly to what each of them had to say, even if it were trivial. She never belittled their fears. Aedan remembered then a conversation he'd had with Wynne that he'd not enjoyed. She had asked about his 'relationship' with Leliana. He'd been so annoyed with her for meddling at the time, but had forgiven her afterwards. Her words echoed in his mind:

"_Love is ultimately selfish. It demands that one be devoted to a single person, who may fully occupy ones' mind and heart, to the exclusions of all else. A Grey Warden cannot afford to be selfish. You may be forced to make a choice between saving your love and saving everyone else, and then what would you do?"_

There was that bitter feeling in his stomach again. Alistair had known his duty, and ultimately he did too. He'd tried to tell the king he was a coward and selfish, but as usual, Alistair had expected nothing less of him than his best. And as usual, that is what he would give. He didn't know any other way.

After another day of hard travel the wardens made the Circle Tower just as the sun set and Aedan realized he had never seen the tower in the daylight. It was as if this place was permanently cloaked in darkness. Arranging accommodations at the Spoiled Princess for the rest the party, Aedan and Taren took the boat across the lake to the tower. They were expected and Irving had arranged the use of a guest room for the night.

There was a bright spot that evening. Irving had news of Wynne and Shale's quest to Tevinter. He passed Aedan Wynne's correspondence and Aedan smiled what felt like his first smile in days as he read it. It was good to read her familiar hand and he could hear her voice in his head as he learned of her adventures. He thanked Irving sincerely as he passed the letter back.

Aedan then met with the senior enchanter that wished to accompany them. She was younger than he'd expected from Taren's description. Of course, Taren was only about his age, so everyone probably seemed old to him. Her name was Yrisa and she was a sturdy woman of about thirty-five years. She was quite talkative and Aedan almost grinned as he tried to imagine how the reticent Taren had ever become acquainted with such a garrulous woman. After talking with her and Irving for a while, Aedan agreed that she would make a fine addition to his team. They made arrangements for her to travel with them in the morning. As Aedan walked to the guest quarters he marveled over the sense of purpose, and therefore calm, the meeting had cultivated. He'd been thinking of something other than himself for a while. There was a lesson there he decided.

When Aedan awoke the next morning something warm was nestled against his back. He blinked his eyes open and lay still for a moment. Rationally he knew it was not Leliana but for a while he did nothing to fight the loneliness that welled within. Finally telling himself he would not have travelled with her this month anyway, he swallowed his sorrow and rolled over to find a cat balled up behind him. He scratched its head absently for a bit, letting it's rumbling purr further soothe him before rising to dress.

As he left the tower, he was relieved to find he retained some of the calmness he'd discovered the night before. He actually felt somewhat refreshed. They met the rest of the wardens at the docks and set off. The weather was fine and they made good time. Aedan made an effort to travel beside each of his companions that morning, sometimes just exchanging a word or two about the weather and twice nodding awkwardly through condolences. It felt good to be in touch with his men again, it felt good to regain a sense of camaraderie with his wardens. He was beginning to feel like a commander again. Every time his thoughts slipped involuntarily to Leliana it felt like probing a wound and he flinched and tore his mind away, focusing instead on putting one foot in front of the other.

He dropped back to walk beside Kayley a while. The elf was always quiet in his presence and he knew the fault was a combination of her natural shyness and his behavior after Delilah's death. Besides greeting her as a new warden he'd avoided being alone with her after the Joining. Thankfully Zevran had filled the void. She was always courteous though and a quiet word with the assassin had let him know she bore him no ill will.

They traveled together in silence as he tried to think of a way to break the ice. She surprised him by saying, "Zevran will find her Commander."

Aedan looked over at her and realized he was not the only person walking here without their love by their side. Certainly everyone here had left someone behind to become a warden in the very least. He felt humbled by Kayley's easy acceptance of Zevran's absence and he thanked her for her words.

She continued with, "If you ever need someone to just listen, I'm always here."

Aedan nodded wordlessly at her, almost overcome. He awkwardly patted her arm and stepped forward to call a break for lunch.

There was another friend he missed sorely. Zevran was like his shadow, always there, and now he was absent as well. He would miss more than the elf's company however. He would miss those blades at his side. He and Zevran had been a team in battle. Aedan glanced over the assembled wardens looking for a likely replacement and realized that it would probably be Kayley. This idea made him uncomfortable as he did not want to be responsible for her. With a heavy sigh he realized that he should trust in Zevran's judgment and training and made a mental note to start practicing with her.

As he contemplated the rather boring roll he'd stuffed in his pack that morning Philippe stepped to his side. Aedan beckoned him to sit and the older warden sat in the dirt beside him. He was chewing methodically on similar fare and seemed to be enjoying his as little as Aedan was. Philippe washed down his lunch with some water, then leaned back against the rock Aedan had propped himself against.

Aedan looked the older warden over carefully before asking, "Philippe…your wife, is she in Orlais?"

Philippe's eyebrows rose in surprise and there was just a hint of sadness in his eyes when he answered, "No, Commander, she passed with the birth of our fourth child."

Aedan instantly felt sorry for asking such a personal question, he said, "Philippe, I'm so sorry."

Philippe raised a hand, his usual calm demeanor restored, "Please, this was many, many years ago. But thank you."

Aedan hardly dared ask, "The child?"

Philippe smiled, "Sixteen years old and a handful, according to my sister."

He chuckled and Aedan smiled carefully. Sixteen years seemed such a long time. Would he be around to see his child in sixteen years? Philippe had been a warden for fifteen so the child must have been conceived beforehand. This prompted him to ask, "Have you known any other wardens that had a child…after the Joining?"

To his surprise, Philippe nodded in the affirmative and said, "Just the one. It was a healthy baby, Commander." Philippe clapped him on the shoulder encouragingly and Aedan felt his spirits lift a little.

Philippe then changed the subject and asked about the mage that had joined them that morning and Aedan filled him in on the details. Again that sense of purpose and determination rose in him, allowing him to push his sadness away for a time.

Aedan finally said, "Philippe, I owe you an apology."

Philippe looked surprised, but he nodded and said, "Commander, it is not necessary." He spread his hands, "the circumstances."

Aedan shook his head, "No, Philippe, I acted…have been acting like a child." Aedan sighed. He wished he was saying this to Alistair instead of Philippe, but this would have to do for now. He looked up and the warden was watching him quietly. Aedan continued with, "Thank you for your patience these past few days. I hope you will consider staying on in Ferelden, after this…after everything."

Philippe nodded his assent and then chewed upon his lip a moment. Aedan could see the man wanted to ask something and decided to preempt him, "I'm not ready to tell you Philippe. I do think you have a right to know what I did." He slapped a hand against his thigh brushing off crumbs, then added, "I just…it gets worse with the telling."

Philippe nodded his assent, "As you wish, Commander, when you are ready." He excused himself and stood up to rally the wardens for the afternoon's journey.

Aedan contemplated the piece of bread he'd been holding and threw it away. He'd lost his appetite. The ritual, it always came back to that damned ritual. With the darkspawn incursions on the rise, Aedan had come to a frightening conclusion – he hadn't saved Ferelden from the arch demon, he'd just prolonged the war. That bitter anger that he kept stashed in the pit of his gut flared and he allowed himself to entertain the thought of final retribution. Once he'd dealt with these darkspawn it would be time to track down the source of all his failings. He would travel to Haven and he would deal with Morrigan once and for all – even if it meant his own death this time.

It took most of the afternoon set at yet another relentless pace for Aedan to walk off the anger he'd incited within himself again. They reached Redcliffe by nightfall and once again he settled his troops in the inn before taking Philippe as his second and heading for the castle. They were making their way up the path toward the windmill when Aedan saw the flower. He stopped and Philippe bumped into him from behind. Aedan caught his breath as a flood of emotion suddenly overwhelmed him.

Philippe said, "Commander?"

Aedan waved a hand and mumbled an apology, stepping aside to let the older warden pass, which Philippe did, only to turn about and face him, his face a mask of worry. He said, "Are you well?"

Aedan nodded and stepped off the path completely and walked up to the large tree that grew beside the mill. He crouched down in the grass beside it and plucked the small white flower. He brought it to his nose and he smelled his love, he smelled Leliana.

He sat there with the flower in his fingers and he remembered the night he'd given one just like it to her. He'd meant it as a flirtatious gesture. Surprise a beautiful woman with simple gift and talk his way into her affections. But Leliana's reaction had surprised him. She'd smiled at the flower, but as she smelled it, her face had changed. She'd become so sad and wistful. Aedan had stood there fidgeting, his small experience with women not having prepared him for this reaction. He'd hoped for a kiss, he'd produced a sad smile and a hint of tears. Then she'd told him how it reminded her of her mother and they'd ended up sharing some of their childhood with each other. In a way, it had been the proper beginning of their friendship.

Aedan pressed the petals to his lips and then stood up and tucked the flower gently into the front pocket of his pack. If Philippe noticed the wetness on his cheeks, he saw fit not to mention it. He nodded to the older warden and they proceeded up the path to the castle.


	24. Chapter 24

Across the Waking Sea

Well, this isn't the way I imagined beginning my first sea voyage and my first diplomatic mission, thought Alistair glumly as he boarded the _Blazing Sun. _The ship itself was impressive and its splendor and size outshone all the trading vessels currently docked at Highever. Captain Reginald and his crew were arrayed formally upon the deck to greet him and Alistair straightened his shoulders and pasted a smile on his face as he accepted their stiff bows and hands in greeting. Their crisp blue uniforms only barely surpassed the immaculate condition of all the neatly coiled ropes and polished brass fixtures that adorned the deck. The sails snapped smartly in the morning breeze and there was a sense of anticipation in the air as if the ship itself was eager to be off.

With the formalities and introductions taken care of, Reginald's first officer was dispatched to escort Alistair to the stateroom that would be his for the five days they would be aboard.

Having spent over half his life time within the stone walls of the Chantry, Alistair found the stateroom extremely inviting. The gleaming floors, walls and ceilings were all made of wood. The wood itself was golden in colour and it gleamed in the sunlight that slanted through the small, high windows. The furniture too was wooden and exquisitely made, and a blazing sun motif had been embroidered into the drapes about the bed and the ridiculous number of pillows placed on the bed, the chairs and the couch.

Zevran, who had followed him in to 'check security' was equally impressed. He did a cursory check of the room and then let him know he'd be right next door, "In a much smaller and far less impressive room." Alistair chuckled and set down the few things he'd personally been allowed to carry aboard.

When Alistair returned to the upper deck to watch their departure he was stunned by the teeming crowd that had gathered along the dock and waterfront to see them off. Again, he was reminded that this wasn't specifically a rescue mission, but one of his first and most important acts as King. He was sailing toward the country that had occupied Ferelden for nearly a century to finish what Cailan had begun – negotiate peace. Taking in a deep breath of the salted air, Alistair squared his shoulders for the second time that morning and graciously waved to the well wishers thronging the streets of Highever. Despite the morning hour, the sun was bright and strong and its rays lit up the golden timbers of the ship, making it glow just as it was named, like a blazing sun. Alistair decided to take this as a good omen.

The first day at sea was an enlightening experience. Enjoying the good weather and the new sensation of a sea breeze Alistair spent most of that first day on deck. It didn't take him long to get his 'sea legs', though every now and then a rough swell would send him grabbing for the nearest railing. Zevran moved about as if he was born upon the sea and his inherent dexterity seemed almost to allow the elf to anticipate each sway of the ship.

Oghren, however, was an entirely different matter. If not for the dwarf's pride, he may not have come aboard at all, but as Commander of Ferelden's Army, he had been required to _precede_ his men onto the ship, not follow. He hastily disappeared below deck with the soldiers, only to appear moments later complaining about the very thing Alistair has so admired. "It's all wood!" he exclaimed, stamping his foot upon the deck as if to test its sturdiness.

The dwarf did not gain his 'sea legs' that day, nor the next, during which a mild storm whipped the sea into a murky froth that increased the sway of the ship. After witnessing Oghren actually rolling across the deck, Alistair suggested the dwarf might be safer below. He offered Oghren an arm and with Zevran on the other side they led him down the stairs. But when they approached the soldier's quarters the stench of more than one upset stomach had them all three turning hastily and heading back up to the deck for gulps of fresh air.

Unfortunately the fresh air did nothing to quell Oghren's nausea and Alistair and Zevran spent a good portion of the afternoon propping the dwarf up as he vomited over the railing. Dinner was a very subdued affair that evening.

Retiring to his stateroom after dinner, Alistair decided to take out the book Eamon had gifted him with upon his departure from Denerim. It was called 'Beyond the Frostbacks' and written by Bann Teoric. It was a hefty volume and one Alistair vaguely remembered from his childhood at Redcliffe. Eamon's wife, Isolde, was Orlesian and the Arl's desk was often littered with tomes of Orlesian history and politics.

As fascinated as he was, however, by the story of the emperor Drakon and his efforts to revolutionize Orlesian politics and nobility, he found the sway of the ship too somnolent and decided to seek his bed instead. A day spent lurching around the deck in with a heavy dwarf attached to your arm was enough to tire anyone out, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.

The evening of the third day at sea found Alistair leaning out over the railing of the ship to contemplate the horizon. The sun was setting and the view was breathtaking. Although he still found the vast expanse of sea was unsettling at times, the colours reflected by the rippling water were beautiful. He wished his enjoyment of nature's splendor was not so marred by his purpose. He held Aedan's amulet in his hand and as his thumb brushed over the gem in the centre of the pendant he focused his thoughts. She was there, across the ocean toward Orlais. Every time he sensed Leliana he felt relief that she was still alive, but each time he used the amulet she seemed further away.

His reverie was interrupted by Zevran who appeared beside him, mirroring his posture by resting his forearms over the deck rail. They stood together in silence a while as Alistair let Zevran appreciate the view. He felt the elf shift slightly then and knew he had come to talk.

Zevran glanced toward the silver heart he was holding and said, "Have you sensed Leliana's presence this evening?"

Alistair responded, "Yes. I'm afraid every time I try, but she is still there."

"The amulets were a timely gift, then" Zevran put in with his usual matter-of-factness.

Alistair smiled and then sobered with a sigh, "Though we never could have anticipated such events, yes."

"Are you able to discern distance through this…gem?" Zevran asked.

Alistair frowned as he concentrated on the gem again. He looked out over the sea and said, "If we were on land I would have a sense of days, but this water is so immeasurable. She is getting further away from us, however." He shrugged irritably and added, "The captain seems to think that by the time we reach Orlais she may have as much as a two-day lead on us. Theirs is the lighter and faster vessel."

Zevran put a hand on his shoulder, "Have faith, Alistair. Remember, Leliana has the Maker to watch over her."

Alistair looked up, thinking Zevran had just made a joke, one he considered in poor taste, but as he met the elf's eyes, he realized that he'd meant what he said. Just when you think you understand someone, he thought. So he nodded his agreement and slipped the amulet about his neck. He felt vaguely guilty for wearing it, but could think of no safer place to keep Aedan's most treasured possession.

As Alistair thought of Aedan he again remembered their parting with a twinge of sorrow. Deep down he knew Aedan was a rational man who would not continue to blame him for pointing out he had a duty to Ferelden before himself. But his refusal to talk had hurt, even when Alistair had known the reasons for it. He had been gratified though, upon pausing outside the closed door to hear Aedan's one and only response and had taken it to heart. He sent his own prayers across the vastness of the sea then, and his hope that if the warrior had not yet found a sense of peace, that he was at least well and had found purpose.

Something of his musings must have crossed his face and the ever cunning rogue correctly interpreted his thoughts, for he said, "Aedan knows his duty, Alistair. I know you two did not part of the best of terms, but he will always be your Brother. You know this, I think."

Alistair nodded at Zevran. "Yes, I do. Now, was there something you wished to discuss before you start delving into my other and more secret thoughts?" He smiled to break the mood.

"We all have our secrets, Alistair," Zevran answered, returning the smile. He then got to business, "We will arrive in Orlais the day after tomorrow and there is much we need to plan and discuss."

Alistair remembered something he'd wanted to discuss with the rogue and said, "Yes, and there is a favour I would ask of you, my friend."

Zevran raised his brows and said, "'My friend' is it? This must be some favour…"

Alistair assumed a mock hurt expression, "Zev, you wound me, of course we are friends!" But Zevran's expression had already resumed its droll smile and Alistair returned to the proposal he had in mind. "For the duration of our time in Orlais I think it would be prudent were you to assume the role of 'Advisor' rather than let it be understood I have arrived with my own personal assassin in tow."

Zevran bowed, "As you wish, your Majesty."

Alistair chuckled and said, "Let's save the titles for the empress, shall we? Now I have some maps of the city in my stateroom, let us go over our itinerary."

Zevran stepped aside and with a courtly sweep of his hand indicated that Alistair should lead the way. They went below to his room and pulled out the two maps he had. One was of Orlais itself and the other specific to the city of Val Royeaux. He unrolled the city map and spread it across the table and he and Zevran took turns pin pointing locations and planning their days in the city.

Alistair's greatest concern was the time it would take to pay proper respect to his hostess, the Empress Celene before he could turn his attention to finding Leliana. Happily Zevran would be under no such constraints and would survey the Grey Warden headquarters at the first available opportunity.

They had just relaxed into chairs set around the table when there was a thumping knock at the door. At his response the door opened and Oghren lurched in clutching the wall and mumbling, "Bloody nug runners, when is the floor going to stop swaying?" As Oghren helped himself to a chair, gripping his way along the wall before launching himself toward the table, Alistair marveled at how someone with such short legs could have such a hard time with balance. He dared not look at Zevran, one wink and he would lose his composure and surely add to Oghren's misery.

Zevran answered Oghren's query drily, "The day after tomorrow." He then paused and with a cocky grin added, "Though in your case, it may not be until the day before we re-board the _Blazing Sun_ for our return journey to Ferelden!"

Oghren's pallor took on that curious green tinge again and stifling laughter, Alistair quickly located a suitable container for the contents of the dwarf's stomach – just in case. It proved unnecessary but Alistair left the large brass bowl, now conveniently emptied of fruit, at Oghren's elbow.

Oghren then produced a flask from a side pocket, which he unstoppered, took a swig of and offered 'round. Alistair raised his brows in astonishment and asked, "Do you really think that is wise, won't it just upset your stomach more?"

The dwarf miserably replied, "Ah, I wish I'd thought of it sooner, I was so busy puking my guts up the first two days I didn't get a drink in. Let me tell you, the world is a different place when the floor won't stop swayin' and your belly is empty and you're sober!" He took another long draught when he realized neither Alistair nor Zevran were game and added, "Believe it or not, this is actually settling my stomach just fine."

Their fourth day at sea was marked with the impatience they were all starting to feel at being confined to just the ship. Alistair discovered that the main difference between traveling on foot and traveling across the sea was that your feet measured the miles for you. If not for the wind and the surge of the sails, there were days where it felt like the ship had not advanced upon their destination at all.

Several times throughout the day Alistair would pass the same soldiers as the Fereldens restlessly paced the deck. Oghren's new regimen had produced the surprising result of making the dwarf more balanced and he passed Alistair several times himself as he relished in his newfound freedom of the ship.

That last evening on board was marked by yet another spectacular sunset. As had become his habit, Alistair stood at the railing, staring off toward the horizon with the amulet clutched in his hand. Before he reached for Leliana though, he needed to calm his thoughts. The proximity of Orlais was clouding his mind though.

They would be arriving in Val Royeaux sometime the next day. By all estimations, they had figured Leliana may have been there overnight already and as their destination crew closer, the anxiety and anger Alistair felt towards Jean and Damien grew. But something else Aedan had said that awful afternoon before they left Highever had been stuck in the back of his mind the entire voyage. The seed of an idea that he'd tried not to touch as it represented the same horror he'd seen in his friends face as he'd articulated it. What if Aedan was right? What if this ritual of Morrigan's _had_ disturbed the natural order of things? Was this the reason the darkspawn had not simply faded away?

Alistair shook his head, but this did nothing to clear his thoughts. He had begun to understand the weight of guilt Aedan had resting upon his shoulders and the reason behind some of his more irrational behavior. He did not envy the warrior the decision he'd made that night and he did not envy the weight of it. If his suspicions had any merit, if Morrigan and her unborn child were in any way related to the recent resurgence of darkspawn, Alistair feared what this might mean not only for Ferelden, but for Thedas.

How could they possibly share this knowledge with the Orlesian Wardens, or for that matter, with any of the Grey Wardens? At some point, the questions would start coming from higher up and further away, from Weisshaupt itself. He and Aedan needed to finalise this issue before that day. When Leliana was safely restored to Ferelden, they needed to confront Morrigan. They needed to go to Haven.

With his thoughts at a solid conclusion, no matter how grim, Alistair was finally able to push them away for a time. He rubbed his thumb across the gem and reached for Leliana. He nearly dropped the silver heart in panic when at first he failed to find her. Twining the chain about his wrist, he settled the gem in the centre of his palm and tried again. She was there, thank the Maker, she was there. But her presence was extremely faint. To Alistair's limited knowledge, this could mean one of two things. Her captors had either taken her far beyond Val Royeaux or Leliana was unconscious – not asleep, but fully unaware. Alistair felt the small hairs rise along the back of his neck. Neither of these was a good option. He slipped the amulet back about his neck and went to find Zevran.


	25. Chapter 25

**Rage**

The wardens were two days south east of Redcliffe when they first sensed darkspawn. Aedan was striding along at the head of the company, lost in thought. Alistair and Zevran would have arrived in Orlais two days previously and it was hard not to hope they'd already found Leliana. Though his thoughts were stirring the usual anger and sorrow he kept tucked away, he'd learned that if he indulged himself while they were moving, he could walk it out and usually find some measure of peace by the end of the day. This time however, the feelings in his belly were accompanied by a creeping anxiety, a rising of his awareness and the sense of a bad taste in the back of his throat: darkspawn.

Aedan stopped still. He turned and caught Philippe's eye. The older warden had felt it too, and a quick glance about his companions confirmed they all had felt the taint. Yrisa was sensitive enough to realize the rest of them had picked up on something and was waiting quietly to be told why they had stopped. Aedan stepped back to confer with Philippe. The taint was coming from the western side of the road. The road had been lined by a sparse forest for the last few miles and the weather was overcast. These elements combined to reduce visibility to within the first few stands of trees.

As one, the wardens readied their weapons and advanced between the trees. They had not gone far before they smelled smoke. When they came to a clearing they found a small farm. The trees and the gloom of the afternoon had effectively hidden it from the road. The house was a small two story structure with a shed leaning against one side and a barn behind. The smoke was coming from the barn.

Aedan could discern no movement, but the swirl of the smoke obscured shadows and the sense of darkspawn had only grown. They were here somewhere. At his signal, Kayley slipped into shadow and stepped toward the house. Aedan felt his gut clench. He hated the idea of sending the delicate elf out there alone. But he had to remember that Leliana had done it many times and survived…he had to trust in Kayley's training. She was gone for some time and when she returned, she reported.

"The darkspawn are in the house. I think there may be something in the barn, but the taint is strongest in the house."

Aedan nodded and they advanced together, the eight of them treading carefully through the smoke and increasing gloom of the afternoon. They stopped before the house. Eric and Rolf stepped aside and took up guard positions. Kayley opened the door and silently slipped through. When there was no sound, Aedan, Philippe and Yrisa followed. The room was empty. They moved toward the back and found a kitchen and a narrow staircase. The darkspawn must be upstairs. Holding his breath Aedan started up the stairs. There were two doors set into a short hallway at the top. One small window barely lit the space. Aedan tried the first door and they found the occupants of the house. Though the bodies were badly mutilated, they were recognizable as a man and a woman. Yrisa was visibly swallowing her horror over the corpses and Aedan touched her shoulder on the way out in an effort to steady her.

They crossed the hall to the other room and Aedan indicated Kayley should open the door. She slipped into shadow and opened the door. Nothing rushed out. Aedan and Philippe moved inside. Another bedroom and it was empty.

Aedan was confused. He could still sense darkspawn here, in this house, and yet they had not found it. He looked at Philippe and the older man had a similarly perplexed expression. They filed back downstairs and out the front, reporting their findings to the other four wardens. It was time to check the barn.

The barn was a smoking ruin. Two of the walls had collapsed against one another with the roof slumped in between. There was a space inside the debris large enough to form a small cave. Aedan stepped close to the entrance and felt the taint. It was weaker here, but present none the less. He stooped to peer into the darkness within. A shadow leapt out at him and Aedan nearly fell backwards in his haste to avoid the snapping jaws of a tainted wolf.

The warriors broke out of their tight knot, all of them drawing their weapons. Aedan felt the wolf impact his shoulder and as he spun out of the way and he used the momentum to slash after the creature, scoring a hit across its flank. He let it go, trusting one of the other wardens to pick it up, and turned back toward the menacing growl from within the ruined barn. There were more wolves inside, and they were all tainted.

Aedan brought his weapons up and stabbed at the next wolf to emerge. Philippe was across from him and mimicked his move. Between them they managed to keep the wolf in place, not only killing it, but blocking the exit for a time. But as the wolf dropped to the scorched earth, another two appeared in its place. One shot through and past them, only to be caught by Eric and Rolf, leaving them to deal with the other. Those two wolves were dispatched all was quiet for a moment. Then the largest wolf Aedan had ever seen launched through the gap and charged directly at Rolf. The warrior raised his shield just in time to deflect the snapping jaws, but the sheer size and fury of the beast bore him to the ground. The wolf was standing on top of the shield and its jaws were snapping ineffectually at the warrior's armour when Eric beheaded it with a single powerful stroke of his massive sword.

They helped Rolf to his feet and the four men stood panting, more from the after effects of adrenaline than the short fight itself. Aedan took a deep, steadying breath and gingerly stepped forward again, stooping to inspect the interior of the collapsed barn. He could sense no more taint within, but he somehow knew the space was not empty. It didn't smell empty, it smelled of charred flesh. Nodding his head at Philippe, he sheathed his weapons and crawled into the gap. He'd been right, there were bodies were in here and they were not in good condition. Despite being burnt, they'd been chewed upon.

Aedan backed out and stood up. He didn't need to tell them what he'd found, they all knew. Aedan shook out his shoulders and reached for is blades again. The wolves were gone but the creeping sensation of darkspawn remained. Something else was still here.

They turned back toward the house. The only place they had not checked was the small shed leaning against one side. Aedan moved toward the door and took a deep breath, trying to clear his senses from the brief fight. He opened the door and instinctively flinched back, but nothing flew out at him. It was a storage shed and there was a gap in the floor – the entrance to the cellar. Whatever they could still sense was under the house.

Kayley embraced the shadow and slipped silently down into the darkness. Aedan followed her carefully with Philippe and Yrisa right behind him. The cellar was cloaked in inky blackness and they all stood at the bottom of the steps waiting for their eyes to adjust, ears straining for the slightest sound. The floor creaked above them. Aedan ignored the sound, though he felt Yrisa twitch behind him. She remained silent though and he inwardly praised her forbearance.

Despite the silence, Aedan knew that something was down here. He could feel the darkspawn presence and the closeness of it was nearly suffocating. Just as he was able to see partway into the shadowed cellar there was a keening screech and a shriek rose up before them. Yrisa proved her worth in that first instant. Before the other three wardens could even approach with their blades, a chilled wind blew past Aedan's cheek and froze the Shriek in place. Philippe took the front, Aedan slipped to one side and Kayley materialized at its back and the three of them cut the creature down before it had a chance to move again.

There were two more. But more horrifying than that was the thin wail that rose above the screech and ring of steel. There was a child down here! Yrisa petrified a second shriek and the wardens ignored it while they slashed and stabbed at the third. It dissipated, the smoke further darkening the dim cellar and Aedan turned to unleash his fury on the third. Between the three of them they shattered the still form, turning their faces away and standing back as the rubble burst apart, flying around the small room. The sense of uneasiness lifted, the taint was gone.

The wail had turned to a quiet sobbing and Aedan heard another voice try to shush the child and turned toward sound. There was movement beneath the stairs. He called out, "It's alright. You can come out now."

A small shape bumped past his legs and made for the bottom of the stairs. He let it go, understanding the need for fresh air and light. The child was followed by another and the wardens followed them up and out of the cellar. Rolf had caught the smaller child. It was a girl, perhaps eleven years old. The other was a tall boy, almost a young man. He was maybe fifteen or sixteen and had the awkward appearance of someone who wasn't used to his height. He was trying to stare menacingly at the warrior, obviously protective toward the girl, but his own tiredness and fright was defeating his efforts.

Aedan nodded the all clear, but he knew all the wardens had felt the taint lift. They wiped off their weapons as best they could and sheathed them. He turned toward the boy and said, "My name is Aedan, might I know yours?"

The boy looked at him then and his eyes widened as they ran over Aedan's armor, focusing on the distinctive heraldry emblazoned in the centre. He said, "You're a Grey Warden!" Aedan nodded grimly as the boy continued, "Where were you this morning? They killed everyone, everyone! We ran into the trees, but we came back to get some food and got caught in the cellar. I thought we were going to die." He paused to draw in a shuddering breath before saying again, "Where were you?"

Aedan could see the boy was fighting hysteria and while he rationally knew he could not prevent every darkspawn attack, that he would not always be there, he couldn't help the remorse he felt. Perhaps he could have been here, for this family, if his journey had not been delayed by that one day. He felt that familiar tremor start in his hands and arms and clenched his fists as he fought the fury down. It wouldn't help him right now; it would not help these two children. He whispered, "I'm sorry…"

Philippe had stepped forward and put a hand on the boy's shoulder and was talking him quietly down. Yrisa had taken the girl's hand and hand knelt down to smooth the tangled hair away from the filthy face and whisper soft words of comfort to her.

It was ascertained that the children had relatives in Lothering. Part of their family had moved there when the resettlement effort had begun. Not willing to abandon two children with darkspawn about, the wardens could see no choice but to take them along. They would detour past Lothering before heading south again.

They walked for two hours beyond the farm before making camp. Though no one had sensed any further darkspawn, Aedan couldn't help but feel they were out there just beyond their periphery. He couldn't tell if it was his own nerves or a faint tug he could feel at the corners of his mind. He was crouched down setting up his tent when he heard a soft foot fall behind him. It was the girl. He sat back on his heels and looked up at her, almost afraid to speak. She was a delicate little thing, and he could see the resemblance between her and the boy. She looked back at him curiously for a couple of breaths before saying, "Thank you for saving us."

Aedan' heart lurched at her sweetness and he nodded brusquely and tried a smile, "You're very welcome…I'm sorry I did not come sooner."

She nodded in the sage way only a small child can and said, "I know. Grey Wardens have to fight _all_ the darkspawn, don't they?" He nodded again and she continued, "My name is Brenda."

Aedan said, "I am Aedan…" but she interrupted and said, "Oh, we know who you are, you're the Hero of Ferelden, aren't you? Luke, that's my brother," and she inclined her head toward the boy who was helping Philippe set up his tent, "he wants to be just like you. He wants to be a Grey Warden."

Aedan swallowed a cold lump, not able to fathom why anyone would want to be like him. Brenda continued, "But what I don't understand is why the darkspawn are still here. Didn't you defeat the arch demon?"

Aedan wanted nothing more than to admit he didn't understand either. As he tried to think of some truth to give this girl she leaned forward and patted his shoulder, her hand bouncing delicately off the plate of his armour, and abruptly changed the subject, "What's your armour made of? Luke thinks it's silverite but I think it's dragonbone, isn't that supposed to be the best?"

Aedan simply blinked at her. Is this what he'd been like as a child? Resilient and infinitely curious? Innately trusting of any group of adults? Brenda helped him finish setting up his tent then, her nimble fingers making fast work of the remaining knots and then she sat cross legged in the dirt and watched him unsheathe and clean his weapons. She talked seemingly without breath and Aedan marveled at the range of her interests. At her insistence he passed her a rag and she eagerly set to buffing scratches from his armor as he removed each piece. After a while, he had to admit that he enjoyed her unending chatter. She was so young and so uncomplicated. She made him smile with her odd notions and strong opinions. He was relieved, however, when she turned her attentions upon Philippe after dinner, peppering him with questions about Orlais.

Luke was quietly sullen throughout the evening, though Aedan did approach him with yet another apology. The boy regarded him solemnly and nodded. The look in his eyes said he understood, even if his heart didn't agree. Aedan sat quietly at his side a while, allowing him the space to grieve, but wanting to be there in case the boy needed to talk.

The overcast weather finally turned to light rain the next day. It was a miserable day's journey through intermittent drizzle that wasn't heavy enough to force them from the road, but wet enough that they were all damp and chilled by the evening. The children had walked hand in hand most of the day and the wardens had kept them within the centre of their group.

They found enough dry wood tucked beneath the larger trees to start a campfire and everyone crowded around it, no one particularly talkative as they sought to warm and comfort themselves. Even Brenda had run out of things to say by the middle of the afternoon and their dinner was a rather subdued affair with only quiet pockets of conversation here and there.

Luke asked Aedan if he knew any stories about the mythical griffons the wardens were supposed to have ridden into battle. It turned out Yrisa did and she was happy to lean back and tell the tale. Aedan only listened with half his mind as he allowed the rest to think about his love. The days were slipping by more quickly now and he recounted them in an effort to guess what Alistair was up to. Had he confronted Damien yet? Did they have Leliana? How many days would it take them to return to Ferelden and find him? Too long, it would all take too long, that was all he could be sure of.

When he returned his attention to the camp, Luke and the rest of the wardens had gone to bed and Yrisa was humming dreamily beside him. When they set out the next morning Aedan was much relieved by the knowledge that they should reach Lothering by nightfall.

It was after lunch when they sensed the darkspawn and the weight of the pervasive taint indicated that there were a lot of them and they were coming this way. The wardens were instantly alert, their sudden change in attitude alerting Yrisa and the children. Brenda looked up at Yrisa, to whom she had been incessantly chatting and said, "Is it darkspawn?"

Aedan met Philippe's eyes, the older warden was worried. Aedan looked around himself to assess what to do with the children. He started giving out directions. The children he sent back toward the cover of some rocks with Lyek who usually fed arrows into the fray from the back line. Lyek summoned a wolf, much to the delight of Brenda and warned the children to stay behind him. Aedan drew out his older dagger and pressed it upon Luke, who handled it reverently. Aedan said, "Only use this if you have to. Watch over your sister and stay back…please, stay back."

Taren and Yrisa formed the rest of the rear guard, standing slightly forward and to one side of the ranger and Aedan stepped to Kayley's side as she moved forward to join the other three warriors. Aedan felt the hairs raise along the back of his neck and down his arms, even beneath his armour and was about to call out a warning when a ball of lightening suddenly struck him square in the chest before bouncing off to the side and darting between the five of them before dissipating with a loud crackle and flash. Shaking off the sting Aedan charged forward, closely followed by his companions just as the wave of darkspawn rolled over small rise in front of them. After a quick count Aedan fought rising panic – there too many of them!

Aedan threw back his head and let out a war cry that threw several of the approaching darkspawn off their feet. The wardens met the rest of the small horde with a cacophony of sound that was nearly as deafening. Philippe chose his target first, the towering alpha at the centre. Aedan and Kayley darted left and Rolf and Eric stepped right. The battle was furious, but for a time it seemed they were making headway. Kayley was an admirable replacement for Zevran and stayed at his side, flanking his targets and portioning out her stuns and blows to match his. Every now and then a genlock or hurlock would freeze or become engulfed in lightening and fall to the side. Philippe was still on his feet, so Taren was obviously keeping up with the number of hits the older warden was taking from the huge hurlock.

With a sudden flash and mighty roar the world turned orange. The emissary had struck again and with a darkspawn's usual disregard for friendly fire had hurled a fireball into their midst. Everyone one was thrown down and if Aedan could feel the heat of the flame through his heavy amour he could only imagine what it must feel like through Kayley's leather. She was sitting up and beating out the flames on her boots when he reached over to give her hand, throwing dirt at her smoldering shoulder and dusting her off before helping to pull the rogue to her feet. He needed to make the emissary his next target.

He felt the tingle of healing magic and saw Kayley's face reflect the same ripple. Taren had summoned a group heal. He hoped the mage had enough mana reserves to see the battle through. Then the emissary broke cover. It was off to the side and it was circling toward their own mages. Aedan spun and ran, Kayley on his heels.

The emissary paused in its movement and raised its hands to begin summoning another spell. Aedan forced his legs to move, desperate to get there in time to interrupt. Just as those hideous arms dropped forward, releasing the awful power of nature upon the warden's rearguard, Aedan leapt up and threw himself onto the darkspawn, rolling with it down the small slope it had been standing upon. He ended up on top and he thrust down with both blades, feeling them sink through flesh even as he used the leverage to push himself back up. He wrenched them free and swept them across each other, slicing open emissary's neck and nearly severing its head. He stepped back, away from the limp form and turned to find Kayley running back up the slope. He followed and when he got to the top he was thrown backwards by the firestorm swirling below him.

Kayley attempted to slip into shadow, but her concentration was thwarted by the licking flames and she instead circled the area, looking for a way in. Aedan threw up his arm to protect his sight and ran into the centre of the swirling orange miasma looking for any sign of Yrisa and Taren. There were bodies everywhere, but none of them robed. Finally the storm ceased and he sagged forward, dropping to his knees as he gulped in the relatively cool air and continued scanning the ground. His relief at seeing Taren help Yrisa to her feet was enormous, but there were three still forms beyond them. Aedan briefly turned his attention back to the other wardens and saw all three of the warriors had regained their feet and had their hands full with approaching darkspawn. The alpha was down, but it seemed their numbers had barely thinned.

Aedan turned his attention back toward the mages. They would not last much longer without their healer. They appeared to be recovering, but what he saw beyond them caused the all the bitter grief and fury he'd pushed away over the past week to well up into a seething mass that overwhelmed him. Lyek had not moved and from the stillness of his form, he likely would not again. Luke was crouched over the equally motionless form of Brenda. She had been thrown back against the rock by the firestorm and her head was bent at an unnatural angle upon her neck. Luke's face wore a mask of horror and despair.

Aedan felt something give within and his mind went totally blank. As he ran toward the three warriors it was if an eerie silence had fallen over the world. He raised both his weapons and let out his rage with an almighty roar and threw himself at the darkspawn. Time made no sense as one minute the darkspawn were standing still as he cut them down. Then they passed him in a blur and he was buffeted by the blows of many and various weapons against his armour. Suddenly he found himself surrounded by genlocks and hurlocks with not another warden in sight. He threw out his blades and spun backward on himself, hearing only the ring of steel and the dull thwack of his blades on mismatched armour. He was taking hit after hit, but did nothing to defend himself. All his focus was in doing as much damage as possible.

Slowly the darkspawn began to fall away and his allies appeared in the gaps and it was only with supreme effort that Aedan was able to pull his strikes and not hit Kayley and then Philippe. Time slowed and sped up again dizzying him, and he slowly realized that he'd given into his rage. He fought desperately with himself then, trying to regain his control, but his mind refused to cooperate. It was throwing up images of Rendon Howe and Jean and Leliana and the still and lifeless forms of Lyek and Brenda. He couldn't stop the screaming inside his head and he couldn't stop swinging his blades until a gauntleted fist connected solidly with his helm. Time finally stopped and he dropped to his knees in the dirt and pitched forward, out cold.


	26. Chapter 26

Val Royeaux

For the fifth time that evening Alistair silently thanked the Maker he was not the emperor of Orlais. They had been in Val Royeaux for approximately five hours and by his count he'd had this thought approximately once per hour since his arrival. The nobles he'd met thus far were all so stiffly polite and seemed more interested in outdoing one another with the ridiculous nature of their hats or their proximity to the empress rather than greeting a neighboring monarch. At least Celene had been unfailingly polite and the warmth in her expression as she had greeted him had appeared genuine.

The Empress of Orlais was a formidable woman. That was the only word he could think of to describe her. He wondered what she was like beneath all the makeup and the ornate headdress and gown. Did she ever drop the façade of being empress, or was that was a skill unique to himself, being able to forget he was king for a while and be just Alistair again?

He was in the guest quarters at the palace and the opulence was astounding. The rooms were all large and airy and the windows were so huge that every available space was flooded with natural light. Now, with the setting of the sun the rooms were bathed in a rosy glow and Alistair was drawn to the window to take in the view. The palace was the highest point in the city and across the towering spires and varied stone buildings he could see the water. The details were lost with the distance, but he thought he glimpsed the golden glow of the _Blazing Sun_ and felt a pang of longing for his cozy stateroom.

He looked to the south. The Grey Warden headquarters were a few hours' ride in that direction. Alistair pulled the amulet from his neck and touched the gem in the centre. She was there. The sense of her was still faint, but stronger for his proximity to her. Alistair was confident they would find her tomorrow and his anger rose at the thought of dealing with Damien. But he clamped it down. Anger had no place at tonight's banquet. He was here to negotiate an everlasting peace, after all.

Alistair stepped away from the window and looked down at himself. He was supposed to be dressing for dinner with the empress. By Ferelden standards, his outfit was ornate. Pale gold pants and shirt with burgundy trim and short coat about his shoulders in contrasting tones. Who designed these things? He felt like he was wearing a flag. The only comfort he took was in the sure fact he'd be outdone by the Orlesian nobility.

He looked up at a quick knock at his door and Zevran slipped in, his eyebrows rising in amusement either at Alistair's expression or his outfit. Alistair smirked in return and held up a hand, "I do not what to hear it." He took in Zevran's leathers with a grimace and added, "We have one hour until this banquet, do you think you should find something less…assassin-like?"

Zevran laughed and dipped a bow, "As you wish, your Majesty, but if you will allow me a brief respite, I have some news to report." The rogue had been down in the city using his eyes and ears and his expression had turned grim.

Alistair felt a flutter of panic as he asked, "What have you found out?"

Zevran replied, "Damien left the city yesterday, his destination unknown."

Alistair's first thought was we're too late! "I think I know where he might be headed. Leliana is still here, Zev, he did not take her with him." Alistair sighed and put his hands to forehead, rubbing as though it pained him. "Leliana would never have revealed what she knew so quickly, I fear he used blood magic on her."

Zevran took the news impassively, as if it were no surprise to him that Damien would be capable of such an act. Alistair was fighting that rising anger again and in order to vent some of it he said, "What is it with Grey Wardens and blood magic? The end never justifies the means! We're supposed to be the protectors of humanity!"

Giving air to his thoughts helped and Alistair took a deep breath to clear his head. He looked up and realized that Zevran still did not know the full extent of what Leliana had revealed. The elf was standing quietly by and regarding him with a curious expression. Alistair was struck then by the former assassin's loyalty and friendship. Both he and Aedan had come to rely on Zevran as more than just another set of blades.

He beckoned his friend over to the arrangement of chairs beneath the windows and said, "Want to hear a story, Zev? I am no bard, but in this case, I think you'll forgive me my lack of flair."

As they rode south Alistair replayed the previous evening over in his mind. The banquet had been a rigidly formal affair and after the first hour he had given up trying to remember names. Fortunately his advisor, finally dressed in something other than drakeskin leather, had remained at his elbow the entire evening feeding names and pertinent details to him in a low whisper. There had been a few raised brows at his advisor's obviously pointed ears, but Zevran's suave and easy manner had won many admirers and even Celene herself had complimented Alistair on his choice of staff.

Alistair couldn't help the smile that came at the memory of Celene's first reaction to his companions. She had looked from Zevran to Oghren with arched brows and commented drily, "I see the rumours of a united Ferelden are true! You have already accomplished much as King, Alistair."

The stone walls of the castle that housed the Grey Warden headquarters slowly rose above the tree tops and Alistair plucked the chain from his neck, pulling the amulet out of his armour. He felt for Leliana and her signal was steady, though he could tell she was still unconscious. She had been unconscious for three days and he feared for her mind, if not her baby. His gut clenched and Alistair found himself hoping this did not end in bloodshed. Thedas needed Grey Wardens and he refused to believe the entire Val Royeaux order was complicit in Damien's actions.

They were greeted at the gates by two wardens who introduced themselves as Marc and Louis. Marc was the senior warden and bowed graciously toward Alistair before inviting him to enter. Alistair restrained the urge to wrap his fingers about the warden's neck and demand to know where Leliana was, and tried to maintain his neutral expression.

Alistair and Zevran followed the wardens to the main hall where they were offered rest and refreshment. Alistair took the first opportunity to ask if Damien would be joining them. He carefully studied the wardens' faces as they prepared to respond, knowing Zevran was doing the same, and could discern no hidden agenda. Their expressions were open and honest as they answered.

"Likely you will meet the Commander when you return to Ferelden, Alistair, he left two days ago. In fact, we are surprised by your visit here today."

Alistair replied with, "Damien and I had some…unfinished business to take care of." He paused and then asked, hardly daring to hope, "Has Jean returned? He left Ferelden just before we did." As he uttered the traitor's name he struggled to school his features into a look of polite interest.

Jean was indeed in residence and was summoned. Alistair tried not to pace the hall as he waited for the young warden to arrive. When Jean finally entered the room it was with the air of a condemned man walking toward the gallows. Alistair took a step forward, a hand instinctively reaching for his sword, but Zevran grasped his arm and slipped in front of him and with a terse nod toward Jean said quietly to Alistair, "Perhaps we could take this meeting somewhere more private?"

The raised brows on the faces of Marc and Louis indicated they were not sure if this was a good idea, but curiously, they deferred to Jean and the pale young warden led Alistair and Zevran from the hall. As soon as they were out of earshot, Alistair reached forward to grab the Orlesian's arm, spinning him in place and growled, "Where is she?"

Jean's face was filled with many conflicting emotions. The panic and the sorrow did not outweigh the regret, however. He lifted a finger to his lips and said, "Please…I cannot take you to her yet."

Alistair felt he would choke on his own words as he tried to speak in normal tones as they passed a group of wardens in the corridor. "Why not?" He asked.

Jean whispered, "The mage…"

So it was blood magic then. Alistair's stomach twisted with hatred and he clenched his hands at his side and took several more deep breaths. Killing Jean here and now would accomplish nothing. They needed information first.

They arrived at Jean's quarters and Alistair had a brief moment to wonder why such a young and junior member of the order rated a private room, a large one at that. Zevran articulated his thoughts, asking, "Just what is your relationship to Damien, Jean?"

The elf did not look surprised when Jean answered in a low voice, "He is my father."

Alistair's first reaction to this pronouncement was horror. What kind of man would do this to their own son? In his mind Damien was no longer merely power mad, he was simply mad. Alistair's second reaction was unexpected. He felt a deep sorrow for Jean.

Zevran was saying, "So it was you keeping an eye on Aedan all along then, and not Philippe." Jean nodded quietly, no further answer necessary.

Alistair asked quietly but firmly, "Where is Leliana?"

Jean stuttered, "She is being held in the fade by a blood mage." He looked down, avoiding Alistair's eyes, "Damien left instructions that she be killed, but I have…neglected to pass these along to the mage."

Zevran responded, "At least you are consistent."

Jean looked up, surprised, and Zevran continued with, "Aedan also lives."

The young warden slumped with obvious relief. Alistair shook his head, pity for Jean welling within him again. He pushed it aside and said, "We will deal with this mage, take us to her."

Jean raised a hand and said, "I will, but we must be cautious. He is very powerful. If he was to learn of my…weakness… too soon, that Leliana should not be alive, he would be quick to remedy the situation."

They left Jean's quarters which proved conveniently located near the entrance to the dungeon. Alistair could not help the chill that crept up his spine as they descended the stair case. The last dungeon he'd entered had been at the Arl of Denerim's estate when they sought to free Anora. He hoped this one was less populated.

The dungeon appeared deserted, in fact, and only Alistair's footsteps echoed off the dark stone walls as they made their way along the main corridor. Jean put up a hand before they reached a closed door at the end. Alistair and Zevran flanked the door and listened as Jean went inside. The young warden was greeted by a surly voice, "Why do you continue to disturb me Jean? And where is the refreshment I asked of you last time you so kindly interrupted my work?"

Hoping the mage was distracted enough by Jean's presence Alistair leaned forward, ready to rush into the room, but Zevran attempted to restrain him. As he turned his head toward the rogue, his foot touched the floor and hit the edge of a glyph. He was thrown backwards and skidded down the stone hallway with a screech of metal and laid there stunned for a moment. He raised his head and scrambled to his feet just as Zevran slipped through the door. The glyph had expired. Drawing his sword, Alistair ran back down the hall.

Zevran had barely made it through the door before he fell under the effects of a horror spell, becoming frozen in place as his limbs twitched and jerked. Jean was slumped in the corner behind the door. He'd been thrown there by the same repulsion glyph and with less distance to travel had connected with the wall with great force. Leliana was lying across from the entrance, her body curled upon itself on the floor. Her face was pale and completely devoid of expression, her eyes closed. If Alistair had not felt her presence with the amulet, he would have thought her dead. She was so still.

Alistair returned his attention to the mage and felt the telltale tingle of electricity building in the air. He quickly cleansed the area and prepared to strike. Zevran reached the mage first, aiming a low kick that effectively interrupted the spell before slipping behind him and raising the pommel of his dagger to stun.

Alistair stepped up and as he swung his sword and up and across Zevran ducked out of the way. They both flinched in the spray of blood as the mage's head left its body and flew across the room. Alistair dropped his sword and immediately ran over to kneel by Leliana's side. Colour was returning to her cheeks but she was still out. If she had been this way for three or four days, she would be very weak. He gently reached beneath her and lifted her into his arms.

Zevran was crouched before Jean, feeling for the young warden's pulse. He looked up at Alistair and shook his head. The impact with the wall must have killed him outright and as Zevran tipped his head forward, it became apparent this was the case. Alistair swallowed and turned away from the gruesome stain on the wall. A part of him was glad Jean was dead, but that feeling warred with his sympathy for Jean's predicament. They would never know more details of the relationship between Jean and his father, but it was obvious it had not been a happy one.

Zevran retrieved Alistair's sword and followed him from the room. He then slipped in front of him and soundlessly ran ahead, checking around corners and opening doors as necessary, raising a hand once to halt Alistair's progress until two Orlesian wardens passed by the entrance to the dungeon.

They managed to make it back to Jean's room where Alistair laid Leliana on the bed. He and Zevran paused to clean as much blood from their amour as possible and then Zevran slipped into the hallway again. Their plan was to lower Leliana from the window and then exit through the main entrance themselves before riding around to retrieve her.

While he had a moment, Alistair sat on the edge of the bed and took Leliana's limp hand in his. He was powerless to help her right now and could only hope that she would survive this ordeal unscathed. He hardly dared to think about the baby, or what would happen to Aedan if he lost them both. Though not a religious man, he found himself praying to the Maker right then, a steady stream of quietly whispered words he did not cease until he heard Zevran calling from below the window.

Using a combination of blankets and sheets from Jean's bed, Alistair successfully lowered Leliana into Zevran's waiting arms and watched as the elf gently lowered her to the ground, pausing to settle her against the wall and brush her hair gently away from her face before disappearing back around the castle.

Alistair met him in the corridor and they found their way back to the main hall and informed Marc and Louis that their business with Jean was concluded. As they bid them farewell, Alistair tried not to run for his horse. He wanted to be away before they discovered the two dead wardens in their dungeon.

The ride back to Val Royeaux was interminable and they arrived well after dark. Alistair and Zevran had taken turns holding Leliana in front of them and they were both exhausted from the effort. They rode directly to the palace and Alistair carried Leliana straight to his rooms where he instructed a servant to bring a healer.

A brisk knock at the door announced the arrival of the empress herself. She glanced from Leliana, who was laid out on is bed, to Alistair and seemed on the verge of making a smart comment before Alistair said, "This is the wife of Ferelden's Warden Commander and she has been under the influence of blood magic for several days. Please, Celene, if you know anything of this let us clear the air now."

The empress responded with, "Damien is beyond my influence and I will not meddle in the affairs of the Grey Wardens, Alistair. I would suggest the same to you, were the circumstances different. There is going to come a time when you must decide, because you cannot be both, are you a Grey Warden, or a King?"

Though it pained him to acknowledge her point, Alistair knew she spoke the truth. He nodded toward her and she continued, her voice softer, "But you have my sympathy and I will do all in my power to see she is now safely returned to Ferelden."

The healer arrived. They stepped aside and let the mage examine Leliana. She lifted eyelids and patted her cheeks before she felt over all for broken bones. Then the mage closed her eyes and rested her hand over Leliana's forehead. She then moved her hand toward Leliana's heart and finally let it hover over her stomach a moment. She opened her eyes and looked at Alistair.

Alistair held his breath and from the silence that fell across the room, he was not the only one. The mage relaxed her shoulders and offered a satisfied smile. "She is very strong and she will recover, physically. She may wake tonight, or tomorrow." She glanced at Leliana's stomach again and then back toward Alistair, "You know she is with child?"

Alistair nodded, his heart in his throat, and was unable to ask the question. The mage saved him the trouble. "The baby is well."


	27. Chapter 27

**Lothering**

Aedan had a headache. Taren had simply run out of healing energy before being able to deal with most of his injuries. He was lucky none of them had been life threatening. Extremely lucky from Philippe's account of the second half of the battle. When he'd come to and looked over the battlefield he'd been horrified by the sheer number of bodies that littered the ground. The wardens were huddled over by Lyek and Brenda and Yrisa had Luke in her arms as the lad sobbed. Philippe had been crouched at Aedan's side and as he attempted to gain his feet had held out a hand, and then used that grip to lead Aedan off to the other side of the road, away from their companions.

The older warden had then recounted Aedan's actions and Aedan had had to swallow against his rising stomach as he stole glances at the darkspawn he had mutilated. He had covered his face with his hands, then, unable to look further. Philippe was gentle but firm and his words did not need saying more than once. Aedan needed to learn control, and soon, before he endangered not only himself, but the wardens he was supposed to fight alongside.

He wanted nothing more than to wallow in his grief and his misery then, but he had his companions to think of. So after a few moments spent collecting himself Aedan joined Philippe and the other wardens. He paid his respects to the dead, but couldn't watch as Eric and Rolf dealt with their bodies. Though he knew he was not responsible, he could not help feeling he had two more deaths on his hands. For the remainder of the afternoon he avoided the other wardens' eyes and faces. He did not want to see himself reflected in their shocked and sorrowful gazes. He strode ahead of them, keeping his head down while he nursed the pain. He was almost grateful for the ache by the evening as it prevented him from thinking.

They did not make Lothering by nightfall and made camp perhaps two hours walk from the town. All was quiet and none of the wardens could sense darkspawn. They were all wary, however, and Aedan knew it would be a nervous and sleepless night for many, despite the fact they all needed rest. Aedan slipped inside his tent rather than sit at the campfire, he wanted to be alone. He lay down and took the flower from his pack. It was a sad looking little thing now, wilted and dry. But it still carried her scent and he pressed it to his nose and closed his eyes.

Aedan had met Leliana for the first time in Lothering. He thought back to the day of their first meeting and found himself smiling as he recalled the way in which she had tried to join their party. She had simply announced she was coming along. He had gaped at her standing there in her chantry robe, spattered in blood from their fight with Loghain's men and wondered what kind of head injury she had incurred. He'd tried to reject her at first, not willing to be responsible for another woman – he had already regretted accepting Morrigan's aid, the constant bickering between her and Alistair was wearing him down. But she had met them again by the bridge as they were leaving town and restated her case. Alistair had interjected then and Aedan had acquiesced, never guessing just how important to him she would become.

Aedan wrapped his arms around himself and hugged tight. The pain of his loss was greater than any ache in his head. Before he slept he sent a prayer to the Maker for Leliana, then for Alistair and Zevran, and for the companions they had lost in battle, and finally for himself.

Lothering was in bad shape when they arrived the next morning. It had been besieged by darkspawn, most likely the same horde they had met in battle the day before. They were greeted enthusiastically by the survivors and refugees attempting to restore order and repair the damaged buildings. They entered the Chantry and started asking around for Luke's family. No one had heard of them and as they moved from person to person, Aedan began to suspect they would not be found.

He turned and gently took Luke's arm and pulled him from the Chantry, ignoring the look of terror on the boy's face. He walked around the building and sat him down on an old crate and then crouched down before him.

"You have no family in Lothering, Luke. You knew this, did you not? Did you say so for Brenda's sake, or did you have something else in mind?" Aedan said. He caught a glimpse of Philippe hovering by the corner of the Chantry, but ignored him, keeping his focus on Luke.

Luke flinched at his sister's name, and then answered, "I wanted to stay with you. I want to avenge my parent's deaths…Brenda's death. I want to be a Grey Warden!"

Aedan dropped his head into his hands and whispered, "Holy Maker." He'd been right. What was he going to do with this boy? He looked up and his heart melted. He saw himself perhaps eight years ago looking up at Fergus as his older brother got to do everything he wanted to do, but was too young, or too small. He said, "Luke, Ferelden sorely needs Grey Wardens, yes, but you are so young. I know you don't want to hear this, but you have much to learn and not all of it will be how to use a sword. If I take you with me know, you may not live long enough to learn even that."

He held Luke's gaze then, to make sure he'd made his point. The boy's shoulders were square, but shaking, and the look of defiance in his eyes was crumbling. He wanted to reach out and hug him, but felt somehow that would be wrong right now, that the boy would appreciate a show of strength on his part more. He came to a decision.

"Luke, I want you to travel to Gwaren with the next merchant that leaves Lothering. That is where I will make my home when I am done here." His voice broke a little as he continued, "That is where my…wife and I will raise our child." Aedan stopped and looked away, blinking against tears for a moment, drawing in a gulp of air he did not really need. When he turned back, Luke was looking at him with a serious expression. "I will help you train and then we'll talk about your future."

Luke nodded carefully, trying to look like a man, and then his face clouded and he became a boy again as he said, "Only if you promise you will come…when you are done killing these darkspawn."

Aedan caught his eyes, "I promise I will be there." They shook hands, solemnly, and went back around the Chantry to join the rest of the wardens.

Aedan felt an enormous weight lift from his shoulders when they saw Luke off in the company of a merchant that afternoon. He slipped the merchant a generous pouch of coin, but suspected it was the heraldry on his armour and perhaps the slightly threatening look in his eyes that would guarantee the boy's safe arrival in Gwaren.

The wardens left Lothering before nightfall and made camp in the same location as the previous evening. Aedan wanted to join the others by the campfire that night. He felt the need for company but experienced an unusual shyness. He wasn't sure they would welcome him, he was afraid of the look in their eyes. Kayley stepped over to him while he was fiddling uselessly with the knots on his tent and invited him back to the campfire and when he followed her, the wardens all made a point to catch his eye and let him know they were still his men, his soldiers, his companions. He was humbled by their acceptance and he blinked tears away for the second time that day.

They turned south again late the next day and soon came upon a small band of darkspawn. They were evenly matched, one to one, and the battle lasted mere minutes. Aedan had barely had time to draw his sword before it was over and was grateful his control had yet to be tested.

The wardens were more jovial that evening at camp. Everyone's injuries had fully healed and the day's travel had been light with only the one skirmish. Yrisa entertained them with a story as they sat about the campfire and as had become his habit, Aedan let his mind wander. He thought about Luke first and sent a quick prayer to speed the boy's journey before allowing his thoughts to dwell on Leliana. He was brought back to the present by the silence and realized everyone was looking at him.

"No guesses where he was," Rolf said good-naturedly and the wardens shared in the laughter.

Philippe then repeated the question that they had been awaiting the answer to, "What are our plans, Commander? Do we head further south, or turn west again in the morning."

That night Aedan dreamed.

She was waiting for him and as soon as he inhabited her consciousness Morrigan began talking to him. Aedan was afraid, this was not like his previous dreams where he had traveled with her and slowly become aware of her, he was just suddenly with her and he was expected.

"Ah, you are here." She said. "After all the visits when your company was not wanted, you were extraordinarily hard to find when it was, Aedan."

He 'felt' about himself, but had no real awareness of her body. He could not 'see' through her eyes an he had no idea where they were. He wanted to ask her what she wanted, but as usual, he was unable to talk. She anticipated his question however, and answered just as if he had asked.

"I two messages for you, Warden. The first is that your beloved has left the fade. I know not where she is, but she is no longer within the realm of dreams."

Aedan's heart rose and he could feel himself slipping away from her then, he didn't fully understand what Morrigan was telling him, but he hoped it meant Leliana was alive. He wanted to wake up now, he needed to wake up. He had to defeat the darkspawn so he could go to his wife. Morrigan was calling after him and he could barely hear her voice.

"Not yet, Aedan, I'm not finished…he is coming for me, Aedan…"

His eyes snapped open and for a moment all was silent. Then he heard it, the crackle of electricity and the clash of steel. He rolled over and grabbed his sword and dagger and burst from his tent without stopping to untie the flaps. Darkspawn were emerging from the tree line, converging on their camp. Yrisa was summoning the power of nature and Eric had engaged a hurlock. The rest of the wardens were similarly rolling and fumbling out of their tents, weapons at the ready.

The wardens formed up, Rolf rushing to Eric's aid and Taren dropping a rejuvenate spell over Yrisa. Aedan sought Kayley and they chose their first target. Philippe stomped the ground, his threatening posture immediately drawing the attention of the largest hurlock and engaged. As his blades sliced across a genlock's neck Aedan was surprised by the spray of blood and gore. He was not wearing his armour! Only Eric had been partially armoured as he'd been on watch. This fight needed to be quick. Taren would not be able to heal them like this for long.

With a surge of adrenaline, Aedan stepped back from his next target, raising his guard. With little to protect him from their weapons he had to fight more defensively. Kayley managed a critical strike and the genlock dropped between them and they moved to the next darkspawn as one. After knocking it down, Aedan stepped on its chest and stabbed downwards, finishing it off. He looked up and saw Kayley had moved on and was overmatched by the hurlock she'd chosen. The creature was swinging a huge double-headed axe behind itself and was preparing for a massive strike. Aedan leapt forward and knocked Kayley out of the way, remembering too late he was also without armour. The axe caught him below the shoulder with a horrifying thunk, hitting bone before falling away as the hurlock prepared another swing. Aedan was rocked sideways by the blow and he was losing the grip on his dagger as his fingers turned numb. The pain began to run up and down his arm and the whole left side of his body felt crushed.

Aedan managed to duck the next swing and thrust his sword upwards, only to succeed in getting it lodged in the hurlock's armour. With his left arm useless he tugged ineffectually on the sword with his right and felt the first stirrings of panic as it refused to come loose. The point had penetrated the armour and the hurlock was hurt, but it was not down and that mighty axe was spinning back again. Aedan did the only thing he could think of, he dropped to the ground. He finally achieved his goal and the sword slid free as he hit the ground and he lifted it over his head as he rolled away from the hurlock. He tried to use his left arm to lift himself off the ground, but it refused to hold his weight. He used his right hand instead, trapping his sword temporarily beneath himself as he pushed up. He looked over his shoulder and saw that axe coming down again and froze. He wasn't going to be able to get his sword up in time.

The hurlock froze as well and Aedan blinked in confusion until the creature dropped to its knees, axe falling harmlessly to one side. Kayley was perched on its back, both of her blades sunk to the hilt into its flesh. She jumped off with a grunt and ran towards Philippe. Aedan shook himself out and followed. He could no longer feel his arm and he wondered what had happened to Taren. Let him not be dead, he thought as he slashed away at Philippe's target. Between the three of them they downed the huge darkspawn and spun to take on more. The darkspawn continued to pour between the trees and at the sight of so many of them, Aedan's control started to slip. He dragged himself forward with Kayley and Philippe, dreading every rise of his blade as he wondered if this would be the blow where he lost his mind, or the next one. His right arm was trembling when he finally felt the touch of healing magic. His left arm was still useless, but now he could feel it and it hurt! He clung to the pain, using it as a focus while he swung his sword up and down, back and forth, killing darkspawn after darkspawn.

Then it was over and all the wardens dropped to their knees and heels in exhaustion. The camp was littered with bodies and several of the tents had fallen beneath them. There was a genlock across the fire and the smell was shocking. Aedan used his sword to push himself up to a half kneel and looked over the wardens. Everyone was accounted for, they were all alive, but their injuries were great. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen so much blood. Taren was doing what he could, but he was pale and had deep shadows beneath his eyes. Yrisa was slumped in a heap by her ruined tent, shaking all over. Kayley was limping, a gash above her hip. Philippe was bleeding from a head wound and Rolf was flat on his back, having been knocked out at some point. Eric was relatively unscathed, thanks to his armour, and was crouched next to Rolf, patting the warrior's face gently as he tried to rouse him.

Aedan started to shake then, as his fear and pain caught up with him. He'd kept his control, but at times it had felt he was barely holding on. He let himself fall back to a sitting position in the dirt, too tired to care that he was surrounded by the dead. He remembered that he had been dreaming of Morrigan before he'd woken up and he had the overwhelming sense it had not been a coincidence. He struggled to remember the dream, but all he could recall were her words as he'd come awake… 'he's coming for me'.

"I don't know who 'he' is, but he's not the only one, Morrigan. He's not the only one," he whispered to himself.

He heard a step and Kayley was standing in front of him and the look on her face was one of fury. He shrank from her angry glare as she started speaking, "How dare you knock me aside like that! Do you think I need your protection? What about yourself…just look at your arm!" He looked down at his arm and then wished he hadn't. He felt like throwing up. Was there still an arm under all that blood…and was that bone he could see?

Then she sank down beside him and he pulled her close with his good arm and said, "Kayley, I'm sorry…and thank you. You saved my life there…"

She returned the hug and winced as the movement pulled at her hip and said, "Well…don't do it again."

Her voice lacked conviction though and he found himself responding with, "I'll let the next one get you, alright?"

He couldn't believe it when they both giggled at that, must be the blood loss, he thought.

Taren squatted down beside him then and after much prodding and poking seemed to succeed only in making his arm hurt again. He pushed the mage away irritably and said, "Save your strength, we need to move and then get some rest."

The wardens collected what gear had not been ruined and donned their armour and packs over their variety of bandages and slings. Aedan looked around and shook his head. Ferelden's Grey Wardens did not look so mighty this morning. The sky was just brightening when they finally left the camp and when Philippe turned to him for direction, Aedan looked toward the distant row of peaks just starting to reflect the rising sun.

"West," he said, "We're going to travel west."


	28. Chapter 28

**Peace**

Alistair and Zevran took turns sitting by Leliana's bedside that night. They had been swept from the room after the healer's visit so that she could be tended properly and when they were allowed to return she looked much better. She'd been cleaned up and dressed properly and tucked into Alistair's bed. She appeared to be sleeping now rather than unconscious and despite the healer's warning that she could sleep the night through, neither he nor Zevran wanted her to wake up alone.

As it turned out, they were both asleep when she decided to wake. Zevran was stretched out across the couch and Alistair was slumped in the chair by the bed. He'd been holding her had though, and as she woke and moved, he felt the tug and jerked awake himself. She was looking directly at him and her blue eyes were nearly grey. Alistair reached forward with his other hand, taking her hand in both of his and said, "Leliana?"

She blinked a few times and said, "Where am I?"

Her voice was hoarse and he dropped her hand to reach over to the nightstand for some water. Zevran appeared silently at his side and passed him the cup before walking around to sit on the bed at her feet.

Alistair answered her question, "Val Royeaux, at the palace. You're safe now, Leliana."

She answered in a small voice, "Oh," and turned her head then and closed her eyes. Tears leaked from between her closed lids and she curled away from them, rolling on to her side, and hid herself beneath the covers.

Alistair tentatively reached forward and patted Leliana's back and felt that she was trembling. Then they heard her take a shuddering breath and the subsequent sob. Despite the heartbreaking sound of her tears, Alistair was somewhat relieved to hear her cry. It meant she was aware and she remembered and that her mind was still her own. He would have spared her the memories if he could, however.

He continued to pat her back, starting to feel rather ineffectual as her sobs only increased in volume. Suddenly she turned and flung his hand away and said, "Stop it, Alistair. I will not thank you for saving me. Why could you not have left me there to die?"

Alistair sat back and blinked in surprise. He glanced at Zevran, but the elf looked as puzzled as he and only shrugged lightly as if to say, 'don't ask me'.

Alistair turned back to Leliana and took in her red-rimmed eyes and tear stained face. Her expression was one of utter misery…she looked like someone who wished for nothing more than death. What had they done to her? Biting back his anger at Damien lest it should colour his tone he said firmly, "I would leave no one at the hands of blood mages, Leliana."

Leliana responded with, "But Aedan is dead and my life means nothing without him!" She covered her face with her hands and said more quietly, her voice broken and desolate, "Just go away, please, let me be."

Alistair's mouth dropped open with shock and for a moment he was so stunned he could not speak. Either she thought Aedan had not survived the poison, or Damien had told her so. Jean would have been unable to confirm or deny Aedan's death without incurring his father's displeasure. Zevran recovered his wits more quickly and leaned forward, saying gently, "Leliana, Aedan lives."

She looked up from her hands, her eyes wide. She looked like she wanted to believe it, but was expecting it not to be true. Alistair immediately confirmed Zevran's words, "Zevran speaks the truth, Leliana, Aedan survived the poison. He is very much alive."

Leliana was speechless. Her mouth opened and closed and when it opened again such a string of curses came forth that Alistair was momentarily stunned. Then she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. Alistair closed his arms about her and held her close. His heart ached for her. Not only had she been kidnapped and subjected to blood magic, but she'd been allowed to believe the entire time that Aedan was dead. Alistair couldn't even imagine the anguish she must have experienced.

She composed herself after a while and then leaned back, patting his damp shoulder. "I'm sorry," she muttered and he waved off her apology and then took her by the shoulders and said, "Leliana, after what you have endured, you need apologise for nothing."

She nodded, and then looked up, her eyes still wet with her tears. She said, "Where is he?"

Alistair swallowed the lump in his throat as he prayed she would understand what he was about to tell her, "He is in Ferelden, Leliana. He is fighting darkspawn with the rest of the wardens."

Her eyes clouded and she responded quietly, "Oh."

Alistair gripped her shoulders gently and said, "Leliana, he wanted to be the one to come after you. I think he would have crawled down to the harbor half dead from poison had he not been restrained. He was beside himself with grief and rage. He nearly hit me when I told him he couldn't come."

Leliana looked up at him then, her eyes wide, "Aedan would never hit you, Alistair. He loves you as a brother!"

Alistair grinned, "Brothers do come to blows occasionally." He sobered again and continued, "Darkspawn are all over the south and Aedan does his duty as a Grey Warden. I can't say as he cares much for Ferelden's King right now, but he cares for his people. Many lives are at stake."

Leliana nodded her acceptance and after giving her shoulders another pat, he let her go. She lay back then and pulled the blankets back up over herself. She murmured, "I should thank you then, Alistair," and she glanced down at Zevran who was helping twitch the bed clothes back into shape, "and I'm sure he could not have done it without you, Zevran. Thank you both…I am so tired now, would you mind if I slept?" She didn't wait for their answer.

Alistair beckoned Zevran over the seating area beneath the windows and they both sank gratefully into chairs. Alistair leaned his head back and closed his eyes and was on the verge of sleep again himself when Zevran said quietly, "She is not wearing her amulet."

Alistair snapped his head back up and opened his eyes, taking in Zevran's thoughtful look. He replied, "Jean must have taken it from her. Perhaps he feared Damien would be able to use it and discover his weakness." Alistair sighed as he wondered how useful a gift these pendants really had been.

They were three more days in Val Royeaux.

The first day Leliana was moved to her own room and Alistair gratefully reclaimed his bed. He was not able to sleep the day away, however, as his original purpose for coming to Val Royeaux was yet to be addressed. Alistair spent the afternoon with Celene and they made great progress. During the course of their work he discovered that he liked and respected the Empress and it seemed his high regard was mutual. He was eager to present all the signed agreements to the Landsmeet upon his return to Ferelden. He felt he had accomplished much here and not the least of it was finishing something his half brother had not only started, but had believed in. Alistair was proud to have seen Cailan's dream brought to fruition.

Zevran disappeared that first day. Alistair asked after the elf, but was told only that he'd gone into the city that morning. His mission was revealed later that evening however, when he arrived back at the palace travel stained and weary.

Alistair was sharing a light dinner with Leliana in her room. She was much recovered and they were discussing the treaties that had been signed that day. After a light knock at the door, Zevran let himself in. He bowed formally to the pair before striding across the room and holding out a closed hand before Leliana. She lifted her hand, palm upward and gasped in surprise as Zevran's fingers opened and the heart shaped pendant dropped into her fingers. She clasped her hand to her heart and closed her eyes and after a moment her face was lit with a beatific smile. She raised the heart to her lips and kissed it, then stood up and threw her arms about Zevran, hugging him tightly as she whispered, "Thank you," over and over again.

Alistair's heart lightened at the joy in her face and he laughed quietly as Zevran's golden skin flushed just a little pink under Leliana's gratitude. He was not at all surprised by the elf's gesture. It was typical of Zevran to put the needs of those he cared for above his own. While Alistair had been sleeping, Zevran had been riding back to the Grey Warden's castle, no doubt. He found it increasingly hard to recall the dislike and distrust he'd felt for the rogue when he had spectacularly failed to ambush the wardens and Aedan had invited him to join their quest instead. Though he had sworn an oath to Aedan, the warden had released him from it nearly a year ago, content to have Zevran remain by his side out of simple friendship. He would never have a truer friend.

Leliana finally relinquished her hold upon the elf and invited him to join them for dinner. Zevran gratefully accepted, though he looked as if he could use sleep more than food. Alistair could not help noticing how often Leliana's hand strayed to the gem at the centre of the pendant throughout the remainder of the evening. He was just as relieved to know Aedan had not fallen in battle while they were away and hoped they'd return to Ferelden to find him still alive and well.

The three of them spent the second day together exploring the city. Though they were all eager to return to Ferelden, Celene had planned a farewell banquet for their final evening and it would have been the height of rudeness not to attend, given the official reason for their visit. The empress had spent a quiet hour with Leliana the previous afternoon and it seemed the two women had enjoyed one another's company. Leliana was issued an official invitation to the banquet and was encouraged to bring the Hero of Ferelden with her next time she visited Val Royeaux. Alistair couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up at the thought of Aedan dressed with his usual disregard for fashion mixing with the Orlesian nobles. When asked to share the joke, Leliana and Zevran both heartily joined him in laughter.

Alistair missed his friend that day. Though the three of them enjoyed the beauty and atmosphere of Val Royeaux, Alistair felt Aedan's absence. This was a day the four of them should have spent together. Leliana was a delightful tour guide. She walked them around the city showing them her favourite gardens and pointing out the most spectacular views of the harbor. She made sure to show them the statues of the Emperor Drakon and Andraste and she even talked them into a visit to the Chantry were she would have sat for more than the hour they indulged her in had she not a dress to shop for.

They shopped. Alistair spoiled his friend's wife by buying her anything she wished for. Zevran showed his more refined taste several times as he complimented her purchases and Alistair began to feel more like a servant than a king as he accepted package after package and ran out of arms and hands with which to carry them. He was glad of the two hour respite at the dressmakers and even managed to nap in one of the thoughtfully provided chairs while the seamstress fussed over Leliana behind closed doors.

The day in the city was good for Leliana. The fresh air had fully restored the colour to her cheeks and the outing had given her a sense of purpose. Alistair was relieved and happy with the change in her and could not wait to see the look on Aedan's face when he brought her home, safe and sound.

They had visitors at the palace that third and final day. The three of them were in Alistair's sitting room discussing their plans for after they returned to Ferelden. Leliana had revealed all she knew of Damien and the information he had got from her mind. She remembered well her time in the fade and though her face paled as she talked of her experience, her natural strength of character and resiliency shone through. By the time she finished he tale she was more angry than upset. It seemed highly likely that Damien was on his way to Haven. He was obsessed with not only the details of the ritual, but with the result; he intended to take the child from Morrigan if he could.

When their visitors were announced, Alistair couldn't help the creeping sensation that traveled down his spine as Marc and Louis entered the room. The Grey Wardens had come for answers to the questions two bodies in their dungeon had raised. It was a tense meeting. Alistair did not know how much to reveal but it soon became obvious that the two wardens were not complicit in Damien's plans. He decided to risk sharing Philippe's conclusions regarding Damien and the wardens were both shocked and dismayed. By the time the meeting ended, Alistair felt confident the Orlesian wardens would soon be electing a new Commander. He did not envy them the task of routing out any of Damien's sympathizers, but it sounded as if he had probably taken the bulk of them to Ferelden when he left.

The banquet that evening turned out to be a much friendlier affair that the one he had endured his first night in Val Royeaux, for which he was enormously grateful. Alistair and Zevran paused by Leliana's rooms and knocked lightly. When she finally emerged they both caught their breath. Her dress was worth all the coin they had spent the previous day, and was flawlessly tailored to her still lithe form. The red and gold tones set off her colouring perfectly. She was so stunning that Alistair felt an uncharacteristic twinge of jealousy towards Aedan. But he tucked it away and formally offered her his arm.

Despite their enjoyment of the evening, however, the three companions fairly ran for the harbor the following morning. Their send off was no less grand than their arrival, the docks and streets lined with Chevaliers and well wishers. Celene herself came aboard briefly in order to formally offer her farewell and best wishes for their journey. As the Empress departed, Oghren finally set foot on deck and Alistair was not surprised to see the small flask tucked tightly into his hand. The dwarf smiled, raised his flask as if to toast and said the words they were all thinking, "Let's go home!"


	29. Chapter 29

**To the West**

Aedan led the wardens westward for the best part of two days as their wounds healed and they recovered their strength. Late the second day Philippe halted their march and stepped forward to catch his attention. Aedan had been lost in reverie again and looked up surprised when the older warden tapped his armoured shoulder.

Just as Philippe said, "Commander, do you not feel…" he felt it and glanced to the south. Darkspawn. All the wardens were aware of the taint and Aedan mentally shook himself. His eyes passed over Yrisa and he remembered that she was not yet a warden, even though they had been treating her as such. A situation he needed to rectify, much as he loathed the idea of risking her life.

He signaled and as one they drew their weapons and left the road. The darkspawn were moving ahead of them and it was dusk by the time they caught up. It was a short fight and they walked a further hour from the carnage before making camp.

Philippe was hovering at his side that evening and he got the feeling the man wanted to talk, so he invited him to share first watch. He wondered if it was time to tell Philippe why they were heading west and his stomach roiled at the thought of sharing the ritual with yet another person. As soon as the other wardens were settled and the night had turned quiet, Aedan turned to him and said, "What is it you want to talk about, Philippe?"

To his consternation and relief, Philippe replied with, "You need to put Yrisa through the Joining."

Aedan let his shoulders fall a little as he admitted his fear to the older warden, "I know, Philippe. I am afraid…" he looked up and saw only sympathy in the man's eyes as he continued, "I wish there were another way…the thought that she might die is sometimes too much to contemplate. We have lost so many people to the darkspawn already."

Philippe nodded his understanding, but answered, "Aedan, she could die tomorrow, or in our very next battle. She fights valiantly alongside us every time we meet the darkspawn. You should remember it is an honor to be chosen and she would see it as such."

Aedan sighed softly and nodded his agreement. "You are right, Philippe, of course." He looked up again, meeting Philippe's eyes and saying, "Forgive me Philippe…I am too preoccupied to do my duty. Ferelden deserves better."

Philippe clapped him on the shoulder without saying anything and they spent the rest of their watch in a reflective silence.

The following morning Aedan drew Yrisa aside and took a short walk with her. She seemed to sense his mood and kept her expression neutral as he talked with her about what was expected of a Grey Warden and invited her to take the Joining. When they returned to camp, the other wardens were ready and they all bowed their heads as Aedan spoke the few words that preceded the ritual.

Aedan wanted to close his eyes as he handed the cup to Yrisa, but forced himself to remain calm as she took her sip. He took the chalice from her as she dropped to the ground and held his breath until she stopped twitching and opened her eyes again. She lived.

Aedan felt little relief. He'd only doomed her to a life no one should have to endure. He couldn't speak for a few moments and could only watch as Taren and Philippe stepped forward to help her up and welcome her formally. With a deep sigh he collected himself and took her hands, welcoming her as a sister and asking after her well being.

As they allowed Yrisa the opportunity to rest and recover the wardens pulled out their gear and engaged in some light sparring matches. They ended up spending the entire day in and around the camp as Aedan realized the wardens needed the opportunity to rest as much as Yrisa did. He brooded.

The wardens continued their journey west the next morning, but were continually pulled south as they sensed darkspawn. They encountered three small bands, the last of which consisted of only four genlocks. Aedan's growing frustration every time they turned south did not escape Philippe's notice and when they made camp that evening the senior warden asked him about it.

"What lies in the west, Commander?" The Frostbacks were not currently visible above the tree tops, but it was obvious to all that Aedan was driving them there.

Aedan tried not to growl as he wrestled with the notion of telling Philippe why he needed to go to Haven. His hands were starting to tremble again as he thought of Morrigan and he clamped his lips shut and shook his head, gesturing to Philippe that he needed a moment. He finally ground out, "The answer…" and then shook his head.

He stood up and stalked away from camp, not slowing until he was out of ear shot of his companions before he gave way to some of his anger, kicking at several trees as he passed them. He paused for several minutes, catching his breath, and then returned to camp. Philippe was engaged in conversation with the other two warriors, so Aedan crawled into his bedroll and curled up tightly, feigning sleep until it actually claimed him.

They managed to keep their westerly heading for less than half of the next day before sensing a band of darkspawn to the north this time. They tracked the band until nightfall, but had still not caught up with them. It was a largely sleepless night with the wardens on watch fully armoured and those trying to rest half armoured with weapons clasped loosely in their hands. They finally caught up with the darkspawn not long after dawn and Aedan gave way to his irritation by falling upon the first hurlock before coordinating the rest of the wardens. They were a well seasoned group and they all knew what to do, but he didn't miss the disturbed looks many gave him when the fight was done.

The task of dealing with him fell to Philippe once again as senior warden. As he approached, Aedan scowled and tried to deflect him, "I didn't lose control Philippe. I'm still here and very aware of my actions."

Philippe raised a brow and answered, "You are close, Commander, very close."

Aedan felt his gut twist and wanted to throw his sword in the dirt and stamp the ground like a child. Instead he said, "Where are they all coming from, Philippe? Why are the darkspawn not returning to the Deep Roads?" As he finished his voice was nearly at a yell.

Philippe answered, "Perhaps only you know the answer to that question." He paused and gazed at Aedan thoughtfully a moment before asking again, "What lies in the west, Commander?"

Aedan did throw his sword down then, thrusting it point first into the earth before spinning on his heel and stalking off with a low howl. He circled the dead darkspawn before stepping back to reclaim his sword. As he yanked it out of the ground he said to Philippe, his tone level, "My greatest regret, Philippe. My biggest mistake…" the sword came free and he swung it up, causing the older warden to flinch. "My greatest failure!"

Aedan sheathed his sword, grimacing as the dirty blade screeched home and turned away from Philippe.

The darkspawn led them north again the next day and Aedan lost the last vestiges of his control as they cut down a band of hurlocks and genlocks in a small clearing. After uttering his war cry and flying at his first target Aedan felt time slip away from him, only to come to a standstill when Philippe once again knocked him senseless.

As he nursed yet another headache Aedan was not surprised to see fear in the faces of his companions, and deep concern. He did not know which was worse. He felt he was constantly battling himself and losing. He could barely let his thoughts begin to wander in Leliana's direction without feeling his heart would break. She'd been gone from his life for over three weeks now and he seemed no closer to being reunited with her. He hardly dared to hope she had been found, a possibility that seemed more remote as the days passed. And always in the back of his mind was the drive to go west, to find Morrigan, to right a wrong. Rationally he knew he needed to pull himself together, the wardens needed a leader, but he found it increasingly hard to care.

Kayley sought him out first, stepping away from the huddled wardens to crouch by his side and help him to his feet. Always plain spoken, she said what needed to be said, "Aedan we are all worried about you, but you this self indulgence must stop. We need our Commander."

Aedan looked down at her, she was by far the slightest member of their order and yet right now she was the bravest. She didn't even flinch has he raised a hand and dropped it onto her shoulder. He simply replied, "You're right." He turned away from her and strode off.

Beckoning Philippe he led the senior warden some distance away before facing him. He looked the older warden in the eyes and tried to start speaking. His voice cracked and he had to clench and unclench his fists before trying again. "The reason I did not die when I slew the arch demon lies to the west Philippe."

Philippe waited as Aedan continued, "It is a woman, and she is soon to bear my child."

Philippe's brows were drawn down in confusion now and he opened his mouth to speak, but Aedan raised a hand and continued, "A child with the soul of an old god."

Philippe took a step backward, away from him, his confusion turning to horror as he whispered, "What foul magic have you wrought?" Then he added, his eyes widening, "This is not Leliana's child?"

Aedan shook his head sadly, "No…Morrigan's. The wilder witch who accompanied us to the Siege of Denerim."

Aedan rushed on, "So you see why I must head west. I have to finish this. I have to kill…" he paused, feeling slightly sick as he tried to force the words out, "I have to kill this child before it is born and calls to the darkspawn."

Philippe paled and asked, "Why would you agree to such a bargain? To what purpose?"

Aedan spread his hands and shook his head, "I ask myself that every day, Philippe, every day." He sighed heavily and said, "At the time it just seemed the right thing to do. I can't say as I ever cared much for Morrigan, but I trusted her. She promised me the child would not be evil. What can I say, Philippe, I saw a way to guarantee that Alistair…and I…would survive the arch demon."

Aedan did not add that he saw it as a way to keep Alistair on the throne, or to preserve Ferelden's only two surviving Grey Wardens. He was not sure if he believed those reasons any longer.

Philippe was not taking the revelation well. When he looked at Aedan again, it was as if he no longer knew him. The bewilderment in the older man's face hurt more than he had thought it might. He had not realized how much he had come to rely on Philippe's good opinion.

Philippe dropped his head and Aedan stood still, trying not to fidget. He drew a breath and was about to start apologizing to yet another person for his failures when Philippe looked up again and said, "This explains much."

Aedan rubbed his head and winced as the pounding in his temple only increased. "What I did was wrong. I wake up every day knowing I should not be here and neither should that child. Please, Philippe, we have to go to Haven. Help me make it right."

Philippe turned toward the mountains, their peaks just visible from the clearing. He gazed at them a long while before turning back toward Aedan. Finally he said, "Though we have tracked south and north, we are still heading west. The darkspawn also appear to be converging on the Frostback Mountains."

Aedan looked up in surprise and studied the distance peaks. He realized they were indeed closer, "Yes, you're right, though this only confirms my conviction."

Philippe nodded, "Yes, it does. What shall we tell the other wardens?"

Aedan allowed his grief and shame to surface and gasped, "Do we have to tell them anything?" before he realized that yes, they had to tell them something.

They settled on an abbreviated version, with Philippe saying only that the witch the Commander believed responsible for the current darkspawn incursion was located in the Frostbacks. Although Kayley and Taren gave him considering looks, the rest of the wardens seemed to attribute his increasingly irrational behavior to the loss of his wife.

Philippe approached him at camp again that night and Aedan tensed. He did not want to discuss the ritual further. He did not want to see any more loss of respect in his senior warden's eyes. However, it seemed Philippe had something else in mind. He indicated a quiet spot away from the fire and asked Aedan to join him.

"Aedan," he began and with the use of his given name rather than 'Commander', Aedan turned his head to look at Philippe as the man continued, "We need to talk about your attitude in battle, I can't keep knocking you to the ground." Philippe's tone was gentle, but firm.

Aedan felt like a child being talked to by his father and he looked down at his hands before responding, "I am trying, Philippe, but it's like I have two battles to fight, the one out here and the one in there," he looked up and tapped his sore head.

Philippe was chewing on his lip, he nodded as if he understood and then said, "You've had to make a lot of really hard decisions, but you need to stop blaming yourself for them. You need to stop fighting the battle in there."

"Who _do_ I blame then?" Aedan asked.

"It's not always about whose fault it is, Aedan. It's what you do next."

Philippe paused for a moment before continuing, "You have experienced more loss at your age than most men my age. But you should remember that you are not necessarily alone." Here he swept a hand out to indicate the men and women clustered about the campfire, and then went on more softly, "You can always talk to me, Aedan, and I will always listen."

Aedan thought wistfully of the last person he'd been able to talk to, Wynne. Before that it had been his father. His father had always had time for every petty concern. The ache in his head intensified and transferred to his chest. They were all gone now, his mother, his father, his wife. He may have even lost Alistair due to his inability to control this anger. He felt the now familiar sting of tears at the corners of his eyes and closed them, not willing to give in to his sorrow.

He heard Philippe shift and looked up to see the older man watching him carefully. Aedan rubbed at his eyes and the movement hurt his head again. Then he started talking. Once he started, he found it hard to stop. Philippe listened to it all.

Philippe proved right and the darkspawn were heading west. Though the wardens continued to follow small bands back and forth through the forest, by the time they reached the foothills, their path had narrowed. As they climbed the mountains, they had a two day respite from battle, but the taint was all around them. It was so pervasive they could no longer discern direction. The terrain did not lend itself to battle with the steep ground, often covered in loose rock, or the many gorges and sheer cliffs. So they pressed on toward the village of Haven and the darkspawn moved with them.

Aedan began to dream of Morrigan nightly as they climbed the mountains. She was always asleep, but he was aware of her around him and the way her body felt. She slept on her side with her hands curled around her round abdomen. By Aedan's count she was now close to eight months along and he could feel the stretch of skin about the baby. The dreams left him unsettled. He did not dream of her the night before they arrived in Haven however, and when he awoke, this disturbed him even more. Had she left? Had whoever was coming found her?

The day the wardens arrived in Haven they had awoken to the oppressive feel of the taint. They were everywhere all around them, even if they were as yet unseen. It was on the final approach to the village that they first heard the sounds of battle.

Aedan turned back to Philippe, his eyebrows raised and said, "Do you hear that? Who are the darkspawn fighting?"

Philippe's expression was equally puzzled as he answered, "Have the brutes fallen upon themselves?"

At Aedan's signal the wardens drew their weapons and prepared to fight. They split off into their familiar groupings and crept toward the crest of the final hill. The sight that awaited them was nearly enough to cause Aedan to drop his sword. So many darkspawn, and they were not fighting each other. The Orlesian wardens were there and fully engaged in battle.


	30. Chapter 30

**Haven**

"Holy Maker," Aedan said. The battle within the village square of Haven reminded him of the Siege of Denerim. All that was missing was the sound of horns calling their allies to fight.

The Ferelden Grey Wardens joined the battle without hesitation. They did not have time to question the presence of the Orlesians, only to help them in their purpose – defeating the darkspawn. The small number of dead, all darkspawn, revealed the conflict had only just begun. The size of the horde indicated it would not be done any time soon.

Coordinating with Kayley, Aedan approached their first target. As was their habit, they stayed close to Philippe, flanking his enemies as soon as they'd dealt with their own. Chaos reigned. Spells were being hurled in all directions and Aedan alternately felt the sting of electricity as balls of lightning jumped between wardens and darkspawn alike, and the chill of winter as cones of cold swept through their ranks.

Aedan was thrown off his feet as an earthquake hit the battleground and crawled about on his hands and knees, stabbing at any darkspawn he happened to pass. He'd lost sight of Philippe, but when the warrior regained his feet, Aedan caught sight of the familiar shield and stepped to his side. They took on another alpha together, Kayley appearing at its back moments before Philippe delivered the final blow.

Without a minute's respite the three turned toward their next target. Aedan could feel control slipping through his fingers, but it was not his mental faculties he was losing. It was the battle. Every time the struck down a darkspawn three more took its place. His sword and dagger were glued to his gauntlets by blood and gore and his armour began to chafe against the sweat and grime about his neck and shoulders.

They fought on regardless, the three of them a well coordinated unit. Aedan and Kayley danced, their stuns and blows perfectly timed as they moved from genlock to hurlock, spinning around to assist Philippe, before seeking out yet another darkspawn of their own.

Kayley was the first warden to go down. A fireball threw them all from their feet and as Aedan pushed himself to his knees, he looked about for the rogue. She was lying in a heap a short distance away. Sparing a quick glance over his shoulder – darkspawn and wardens were still regaining their wits – he crept toward her. He felt for her pulse and found it. He picked her up and yelled to her over the roar of fire, "Not your time yet, Warden!"

He carried her over to Taren. The mages worked well as a team. Yrisa was maintaining Taren's mana while dropping selective spells into the midst of the horde. Aedan laid Kayley at Taren's feet and looked up at the mage, "Please don't let her die…" he knew his words were lost as yet another fireball exploded behind him, but Taren nodded anyway.

Aedan found his sword and dagger again and stepped back into the fray. Philippe was flagging, his shield arm dropping as he struggled to lift his sword again and again. Aedan ran to his side in time to deflect a blow that would have skipped across the top of the shield and slammed into the older man's helm. The axe hit his upraised gauntlet with a shuddering clang that reverberated through his entire body. Though his recently healed arm screamed with pain it held and he swung it out and down, driving the axe to the ground. Philippe took the opening and brought his sword up, finishing the hurlock.

He glanced over and Aedan saw the fatigue in the man's eyes. Philippe shook his head and said, "Come, we cannot rest now…"

Aedan followed his second to their next target. The ground began to shake beneath them and Aedan braced his legs, expecting another earthquake. It was not. The ogres had arrived.

Aedan recognized Eric's helm as the warrior rushed toward the first ogre. The ogre was being battered by spells cast by both Yrisa and an Orlesian mage. As the last frosty mist dissipated the ogre dipped its head and charged. Eric met the charge head on and was thrown into Rolf, the pair of warriors flying backwards, taking another two darkspawn down with them. Aedan stepped back to deal with the downed genlocks while Philippe moved forward to take on the ogre.

Eric struggled to his feet. He looked as exhausted as Aedan felt. The warrior shook himself out and looked down to Rolf, holding out a gauntleted hand to help his friend stand up. Rolf tried to stand, but could not, crying out, "Maker!" as his right leg folded beneath him. Aedan stepped in to catch him, but the warrior was a big man and he staggered under the weight. They all felt the tingle of a heal spell then and Rolf was able to limp away, muttering that he'd be right back.

Aedan and Eric turned back in time to catch Philippe who was flying toward them across the dirt, his arms and legs flung back. The three of them hit the ground and Aedan grunted as the air was knocked from his lungs yet again. The ogre was advancing and he struggled to stand up, his legs tangled in the other warriors' arms and weapons. Philippe threw up his shield and managed to deflect the ogre's incoming fist. They stood up. The ogre was bleeding from several wounds, but did not appear to be slowing down. Aedan circled to one side and Eric stepped around to the other. Between the three of them they finally managed to cut the monster down. Philippe threw himself onto the ogre's chest to deliver a final strike between the eyes, guaranteeing it would not be getting up again.

The three men moved on. The number of darkspawn was beginning to thin and they could now see the other wardens more clearly. There were two more ogres. One bristled with Orlesian wardens and the other was being beaten back by a single warrior: Damien. The hatred and fury began to rise inside Aedan as he spied the man. The very fact that Damien was here in Haven meant he knew Aedan's secret and Aedan felt his heart shatter as he tried, then tried not, to imagine how the knowledge had been dragged from his beloved.

He took a step forward and a hand fell upon his arm, spinning him around. Thinking darkspawn sought to engage him, he lifted his sword ready to strike. It was Philippe.

The older warden looked at him through the open face of his helm and yelled over the roar of combat, "Aedan, focus!"

Aedan could feel his face being twisted by the conflict that raged within him, but Philippe refused to let go of his arm. A howl rose inside of him and he wanted nothing more than to throw back his head and let it out. He jerked at the warrior's hold, but Philippe refused to let go. Aedan took a deep and ragged breath and summoned all the rage into one place, pulled it tight and focused it. He would use it, but not in vengeance. He would use it to lend strength to his blades. He looked Philippe squarely in the eyes and nodded. Philippe let him go. They moved toward Damien together and flanked the ogre.

Damien did not even acknowledge their presence at first. He might have assumed they were two of his own men, but once the ogre was finally down he turned to look at Aedan and his eyes widened behind the shadowed slit in his helm. As the two men stood facing each other the battle swirled on about them. It could have been mere seconds or several minutes before Aedan forced himself to turn aside, the movement wrenching and stiff, and follow Philippe to the next darkspawn.

Philippe acknowledged his presence with a brief nod and together they cut a swath through the dwindling numbers of genlocks and hurlocks still staggering about the battleground. Aedan thought someone had dealt with the emissaries as he was no longer being buffeted by spells. He found out he was wrong when he stepped on a glyph and was thrown to the ground again.

"By the Maker, if I hit the ground again, I may just stay there," he said. He was starting to ache all over and his head spun as Philippe pulled him to his feet.

"I may just join you," Philippe commented. The warrior was leaning on his sword. Aedan glanced about and noted that the dead now far outnumbered the living. Next was the task of seeking the stragglers between the derelict homes and buildings of the village. They split up to conduct the search. Aedan found the emissary and willfully allowed his fury to lend power to a single sweep of this crossed blades. The hurlock's body joined its head on the ground.

He resumed his search and found an Orlesian warden. He dragged him by his shoulders out of the pile of dead darkspawn. He sensed movement behind him and turned. Eric was standing there, panting heavily. His armour glistened with blood and they'd been fighting so long it had darkened and dried in patches. Aedan had no doubt his armour looked as filthy. He reached to pull off his helm and throwing it aside, drew in the cooler air about him with relief.

"Are you well, Commander?" Eric asked.

Aedan nodded and accepted the warden's hand to pull himself to his feet. "How's Rolf?" he asked.

"Yelling at Taren…I think that's a good sign." Eric supplied.

Aedan grinned and the movement felt odd on his face, which had been set in a grimace of concentration for so long. "Definitely a good sign, how about Kayley?"

"See for yourself." Eric tipped his head back toward the top of the path where they'd emerged into the battle. Kayley was sitting next to Yrisa who was wrapping a linen bandage about the rogue's head. Aedan sighed with relief.

Aedan had not seen Philippe since they'd split up to hunt darkspawn between the buildings. He asked after the senior warden, but Eric had not seen him either. Aedan glanced across the square. The Orlesian wardens were gathering at the foot of the path to the Chantry. He only knew the armour of Damien and his two senior wardens. Damien was not with his wardens.

Fighting down the fear that Philippe might deal with Damien before he had the chance, Aedan moved toward the Orlesians. They looked up as he approached and he first indicated the dead warden he'd dragged from beneath the darkspawn. A look of sorrow passed the Orlesian mage's face and he walked down to retrieve his comrade.

Aedan turned to Damien's second and said, "Why are you here?"

The warden answered with a smirk, "You know why we are here Commander."

Aedan raised his hands toward the warden, intending to grab him by the shoulders, when Philippe appeared at his side, a restraining hand upon his arm.

Philippe nodded at the Orlesian, greeting him by name, "Ben."

His nod was returned in a surly manner.

Aedan ground his teeth and spat out, "Where is Damien? Where is my wife?"

Ben ignored him, addressing Philippe instead, "Do you know your Commander's dirty little secret, Philippe? Do you know why we are all in this depressing little hole in the mountains?"

"Where is Damien?" Philippe asked, ignoring the warden's questions.

The Orlesian jerked his head over his shoulder, indicating the path that led toward the Chantry and said, "He has gone to get his prize."

Aedan shouldered his way past Ben in an attempt to run up the hill. The Orlesian wardens closed about him, and he heard the sounds of weapons being drawn. He spun away from the gauntlet on his arm and reached back for his sword. Philippe had his own sword in his hand and was facing Damien's second. The two other Orlesians had their blades at the ready. The fourth Orlesian was still with the body of their fallen comrade. He had looked up at the sound of weapons being drawn, but not moved.

Aedan could see Eric approaching across the square, his sword out, his shield braced across his arm. Eric stepped up beside Philippe and the six wardens faced each other edgily.

Philippe spoke into the tense silence, "We are supposed to be Brothers."

Ben tipped his head in Aedan's direction, but replied to Philippe, "This is no Brother of mine. He has defiled the Grey Wardens."

Eric gasped, but the words cut Aedan deeply. It was true, he could not deny it. He looked away from Eric, not wanting to see his face if the Orlesian continued in this vein. So this was to be his reckoning. He began to lower his blades, his head bowed. There was a loud boom from the direction of the chantry.

All heads turned and Aedan looked up the path. Smoke was just visible beyond the crest of the hill. He took a step in that direction only to encounter the flat edge of an Orlesian blade. "Where do you think you are going?"

Aedan turned his head, "To do my duty," he snapped and attempted to push the blade aside. A shield bashed him from behind and he fell to his hands and knees, his weapons splayed out in front of him. He shook his head out and rolled as he sensed a blade coming toward him. There was a clash of metal behind him and as he rolled he saw the Philippe and Eric attempting to restrain the other two Orlesians. This was madness, he thought.

He kicked out with his plated boot and tripped his opponent, gaining time to push himself to his feet. He chanced a quick glance up the hill, but his view of the Chantry was obscured by a blizzard. Morrigan was not going to be so easy to capture. Aedan turned back to the warden and raised his blades to block and then flipped them down and across, pushing the man back. The shield was coming around again and Aedan turned his shoulder toward it and leaned forward, knocking the shield away as he swung wide with his sword. He was blocked.

Another explosion sounded from the top of the hill and Aedan growled in frustration, thrusting both his blades forward in an attempt to knock the Orlesian out of the way. He achieved little more than a screeching clash of metal upon metal and immediately withdrew his sword and dagger, stepping lightly to one side to try again. There was a loud thunk and Damien's second dropped to the ground. Aedan looked up in surprise. Rolf was standing there, his bad leg barely holding him, his giant sword poised above the Orlesian's exposed throat. He looked up and said, "Go Commander, we have these swine under control."

Aedan turned and took two running steps and then spun his head back to Rolf and yelled, "Don't kill him!" He added quickly, "Knock them all out if you have to, but don't kill your Brothers."

He turned and ran up the hill.

The blizzard had dissipated by the time Aedan reached the top of the path. Morrigan was standing within the shadow of the entryway to the Chantry and Damien was picking himself up of the ground, shaking frosted slivers of ice from his armour. Aedan yelled out, "Damien!"

The Orlesian commander turned his head and opened his mouth to address Aedan. At that moment he was turned to ice as Morrigan released winter's grasp. The blast of frigid air rushed by Aedan and tired as he was, he was unable to resist. He froze. There was a bright flash and the air around Morrigan shimmered and blurred. She had shifted into a bear and took off for the tree line at a swift lope.

Damien recovered first and shaking more ice from himself with a furious curse he ran for the forest. Aedan tensed against the ice encasing him. They were getting away! He eventually broke free, his teeth chattering and his shoulders shaking from the cold. He ran after them.

The forest was thick, dark and silent. The hour was late and the sun angled sharply through the trees sending disorienting shafts of light into the increasing gloom. He glimpsed a flare in the distance as the light caught Damien's armour and Aedan turned in that direction, channeling his tightly held fury into his limbs, forcing his tired legs to run.

The ground rose and dipped before him and after following Damien for perhaps half an hour, Aedan lost sight of the Orlesian. It as if the ground itself had swallowed the man. Of Morrigan there was no sign.

The forest was closing around him and the trees themselves began to impede his progress. Branches and vines caught at his arms and legs when not whipping about to cut at his exposed face. Aedan caught himself on a low branch as he tripped over a fallen trunk. He leaned against the trunk a moment to catch his breath and listened for any sound that might help him find his way. He heard a rustling and snapping of dry twigs and lifted his head. He saw only shadows. He pushed himself to his feet and continued to move towards the sound.

The shadows deepened as the sun set and the forest took on a sinister aspect. Aedan kept chasing sounds, the rustle of leaves and occasional grunts and squeals. He no longer knew which direction he had come from or where he was going when he finally broke through the trees and found the river. Aedan dropped to his knees and scooped water greedily up in his hands. His fury was gone, spent. He was exhausted. In one day he had climbed a mountain, fought the darkspawn and now run through the forest for Maker only knew how long. He was lost, he was tired, he was cold and he was hungry.

Movement to his left caught Aedan's attention. A bear stood upon a rock downstream. Its fur glistened as the first light of the moon filtered into this narrow corridor either side of the river. The bear was drinking and as Aedan shifted, it looked up. The bear turned and in a graceful movement that belied its size, leapt from the rock onto the riverbank and moved away from him, downstream.

Aedan pushed himself to his feet and followed. He alternated his tired walk with a jog and a sprint, pausing to climb rocks and pull himself around a gnarled tree root, but managed to keep the bear in sight. He did not know if it was Morrigan and did not allow himself the time to dwell on the foolishness of chasing a bear that was not.

The river they were following was growing wider and running more swiftly as they progressed downstream. Its course was littered with rocks and rapids were forming. The sound of the water increased from a quiet lap and trickle to a dull roar. He lost sight of the bear as he slowed to climb yet more rocks which were slippery with moss and the spray of the river. He slipped and caught himself several times, his armour more a hindrance to his agility than protection from each jarring fall. But he could not stop to remove it, he had to keep moving.

He pulled himself over the top of the last boulder and stood. The roar of the water now made sense. He was about five feet from the edge of a sheer drop. The water cascaded over into a fall at his right and the forest met the ridge to his left. In front of him was the night, lit only by the rising moon, and Morrigan. She was standing at the edge of the cliff, facing him. She was human again and naked. Her belly, though concealed in shadow, was clearly apparent. Aedan could not help but stare at the roundness of her stomach, fascinated by the change in her formerly svelte body.

Aedan took a step forward and she raised her hands and spoke, "Don't come any closer, Aedan."

Aedan attempted a shrug, his sore shoulders merely twitching as he replied, "Or what, you'll throw yourself off the edge of the world?"

Morrigan chuckled and said, "That would be rather dramatic, would it not?"

"I won't stop you," Aedan said. "I came here to end this, after all." But he was looking at her pregnant belly again and thinking of the child within. His emotions were conflicted. He had come here to right a wrong, to correct a mistake. But the sight of a woman naked and rounded with his child hit him as squarely in the chest as a bolt of lightning.

He took another step forward and Morrigan took one back, letting one foot dangle over the edge of the precipice.

Morrigan spoke again, "And here I thought you were my knight in shining armour. Why do you bear me such ill will, Aedan?"

Aedan answered, "The ritual was a mistake Morrigan." He glanced at her belly, "That child cannot be allowed to live." He clenched and unclenched his fists and leaned forward, preparing to take another step.

Damien emerged from the trees. He was closer to Morrigan. She started, but remained balanced, her dangled foot coming to rest against the outcropping of rock upon which she stood.

Damien said, "That is where you are wrong, Aedan. That child represents the future of the Grey Wardens."

A sickness rose in Aedan and he turned to face Damien, his voice oddly strangled as he responded, "The future? No, Damien, this child is an abomination!"

Both men then stepped toward Morrigan and she glanced between them once before arching backwards into the abyss. Damien leapt for her, but his arms closed about insubstantial mist as the witch shifted again, becoming a spider that spun in mid air, its legs finding purchase against the cliff face. Damien hovered at the edge, but the weight of his armour decided his fate and he began to fall. Aedan shot out a hand and grabbed at the Orlesian, succeeding in getting a grip on his arm. The resultant jerk as Damien swung against the cliff nearly pulled Aedan over the edge. He dropped flat to the ground and reached down with his other arm to try and grab another hold.

Below Damien he saw the huge spider flit off into the darkness and disappear. He looked back at the man hanging in his grasp then and took a second to wonder what instinct had prompted him to grab at the Orlesian as he fell. He shook his head and Damien drawled from below him, "I don't understand you, Aedan."

Aedan growled, "Where is Leliana, what have you done with my wife?"

Damien was a large man and he was fully armoured with a sword and shield strapped to his back. His weight was starting to pull Aedan towards the edge. Aedan shifted his legs, attempting to find a nook he could slip his boots into.

Damien answered, "I wonder…would you simply let me go if I answer truthfully?"

Aedan's heart began to pound, he snarled, "Don't play games Damien, now is _not_ the time!"

His boots were scraping across smooth stone and Aedan was being pulled inexorably forward. Damien was scrabbling at the rock with his free arm and his movements kept jerking Aedan further toward the edge. Aedan began to consider simply letting the man fall. The other Orlesians would know where Leliana was, if she was…

Aedan contemplated Leliana's death then and it was as if a hole was plucked in his soul. He expected the rage to take him, but it didn't come. There was only an endless emptiness. He became hollow. He looked at the man swinging within his grasp. Killing Damien would not bring her back, nothing could. His arms trembled with the strain and fatigue of holding the man. He had to make a decision. He would bring the Orlesian to justice instead, hand him over as a traitor to the order.

Aedan used his free hand to push back against the cliff then, his course clear. He would try to pull Damien back up. His gauntlet slipped against the rock and the momentum added to their forward slide. With a gasp and a yell Aedan reached the edge of the cliff, his torso hanging over as his boots kicked ineffectually at the rock behind him. Damien dropped downwards and the weight of him finished the job. Aedan slithered over the precipice and both men fell free, tumbling into the darkness.


	31. Chapter 31

Reflection

Alistair and his companions arrived in Haven the evening after the warden's battle.

After landing in Highever, Alistair, Zevran and Leliana had set off immediately for Haven. Oghren and his contingent of Ferelden's army accompanied them. They traveled as swiftly as their number allowed, stopping briefly at the Circle Tower and again at Redcliffe Castle where Alistair was enthusiastically greeted by Bann Teagan.

The companions spent the evening with Teagan where it was confirmed that Aedan had passed through about four weeks earlier and that he appeared to be routing the darkspawn. Merchant trade had been restored along the West Highway and no travelers reported having seen darkspawn recently.

Alistair was heartened by the news. Not only did it appear that Aedan and his wardens were being effective, they were serving Ferelden well.

The companions journeyed toward Haven the next day. As they approached the foothills, Leliana stopped Alistair with a light touch upon his arm.

He turned with a, "Hm?"

"Alistair, I think Aedan is also headed toward Haven," she said. Leliana had the amulet in her hand and she was looking toward the mountains, her face pensive.

Alistair held out a hand and she obligingly pulled the amulet from her neck and dropped it into his waiting fingers. Zevran stepped in closer to listen to their conversation.

Alistair rubbed his thumb across the gem and his attention was immediately pulled toward the Frostback Mountains. He frowned. "Why would Aedan be heading toward Haven? Perhaps he has heard news of the Orlesians arrival?"

This possibility seemed unlikely. Alistair well remembered the days the companions had spent traversing the wilderness. The only news had come from inns and merchants, neither of which would be readily available south of Redcliffe. He handed the amulet back to Leliana and returned his gaze to the not so distant peaks. The companions moved off and as one they unconsciously picked up their pace.

They encountered their first darkspawn as soon as they entered the foothills. It was a small band, easily dispatched by Oghren's soldiers. The second band was further up the mountain side and slightly larger.

At camp that evening Alistair spoke to his companions as they sat about the fire.

"I fear Aedan's suspicions regarding Morrigan might be right."

Zevran raised his brows and Leliana looked troubled. Zevran asked, "Can you sense any more darkspawn, Alistair?"

Alistair nodded. He'd been on edge all day. The taint was all about them, faint, but pervasive. He nodded toward the mountains looming over them. "It is strongest up there, we are moving toward the bulk of the…" he hesitated, then said what he'd been thinking, "horde."

They shared a disturbed look. Leliana put her hand to the silver heart about her neck and stroked it absently. As her expression did not change, Alistair could only assume that she felt Aedan and that his presence was where they expected him to be.

The following afternoon Alistair felt a drastic shift in the taint and reported it to his companions. "I believe the wardens fought a large battle today…the taint is all but gone."

He looked pointedly at Leliana who pulled out her amulet and searched for Aedan. She looked up, her expression relieved, and said, "Aedan lives."

They encountered the odd darkspawn the next day, a genlock that burst from between the trees lining the path and a pair of hurlocks thundering down the path toward them. They reached Haven late in the afternoon and stepped from the path into the village with trepidation.

Alistair stopped and Leliana bumped into him from behind. She stepped around beside him and she too stopped. Zevran similarly froze and when Oghren crested the hill he exclaimed, "By the stone!"

The village square was littered with bodies, darkspawn bodies. At a glance there were close to a hundred of them and there was no mistaking the hulking corpses of the three ogres. Leliana's hand flew to her mouth and she made a whimpering sound. They heard a shout.

"Alistair!"

Looking across the square to the path leading further up the hill Alistair spied Rolf, who was posted as a sentry. The companions and soldiers edged around the gruesome piles of bodies and walked over to meet Rolf.

All Alistair had to do was hold out his hands and raise his brows and Rolf nodded back toward the darkspawn and said, "You missed all the fun!"

Leliana cleared her throat and Alistair quickly asked, "Is the Commander about?"

Rolf caught sight of Leliana then and his expression quickly lightened, then darkened.

Alistair felt a crawling along the back of his neck and thought, Uh oh…

Rolf said, "Leliana, it's good to see you. I am very happy to see you safe…and well." The warrior's eyes quickly glanced at her midsection and he blushed.

Leliana smiled graciously and said, "I am well, Rolf. Please, is Aedan about?"

Rolf shook his head slowly, "The Commander, Damien and the witch all disappeared last night." He glanced from Alistair to Leliana, "I'm sorry I can't tell you more…" he shrugged, "We just don't know. Head up to the Chantry, Philippe will fill you in."

They walked up the path to the Chantry and were greeted by an Orlesian warden posted as sentry outside the heavy wooden doors. A collection of wardens were seated about a table in the centre of the large space, a map spread before them. Several heads turned as the door opened and exclamations of greeting and welcome followed.

Philippe stood and strode over to Alistair, grasping his arm in greeting, his face split with a wide smile.

"Alistair," he said, "It is such a pleasure to see you safely returned from Orlais…I take it you followed Damien here?"

Alistair returned Philippe's greeting but couldn't help frowning as he answered, "Yes. I understand he, Aedan and Morrigan are missing?"

Philippe's expression clouded, "Since yesterday evening. But we will find the Commander and deliver that bastard Damien to you for justice!" he said.

Alistair said, "Ah, Philippe, I will not meddle in the affairs of the Grey Wardens. I trust the Orlesian wardens will be interested in his capture however." He couldn't help his grim expression as he said that, then he continued, "Besides following Damien to Haven, I have come to deliver on a promise."

Leliana stepped forward and Philippe moved to meet her, grasping her by the shoulders and leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Ah, Leliana…words cannot express…"

Leliana hugged the senior warden fondly and was in turn hugged and made much over by the remaining Ferelden wardens. Her own expression was one of worry, however, and as soon as she could disengage, she asked of the wardens, "Please, tell us what you know of Aedan?"

Philippe invited them to sit and related the story of the battle fought the previous day, followed by the standoff with the Orlesian wardens and Aedan and Damien's subsequent disappearance. It was assumed they must have chased after the swamp witch as she had also not been found. Two of the Orlesian wardens had proved intractable and were being kept in the room where Alistair and Aedan had found brother Genitivi the year before.

Philippe indicated the map and together the wardens and companions studied the area that had been searched. Alistair glanced toward the small high windows placed in the alcove at the back of the chantry. It was nearly full dark. They would not accomplish any further searching this day. If Alistair did not trust in the amulet Leliana was wearing, he'd have been more worried. As it was, he had to hope that they could use the magic to good effect the following day.

When turned back to the room, he noticed Leliana slipping outside through the large front doors. He followed. She was standing behind the chantry, taking in the view of the valley below. The pendant was resting in her palm and her cheeks glistened softly, wet with tears. Alistair stepped back, not willing to intrude, but she heard him and turning her head said, "He's out there, Alistair, I can feel him. We've come so far…"

Alistair stepped to her side then and slipped an arm about her shoulders. Leliana leaned gratefully against him and together they gazed into the shadowed valley.

--=0=--

Aedan opened his eyes and saw stars. He was lying on his back and the night sky was spread above him, inky black and dotted with pinpoints of light. He could feel the warmth of a fire and hear the crackle and pop and turned his head towards the soft glow. It hurt. His neck was stiff and his head swam and pounded. He groaned.

"Saving your life appears to be a hobby of mine," said a familiar voice, Morrigan's voice.

Aedan groaned again and tried to lift his hands to his face. Apart from a twitching in his shoulders, he found he was unable to move his arms. Trying again he managed to inch one arm over his chest, but the effort was great and he simply rested it there, grateful to have felt it at least. He tested his legs and though he could feel them, they did not move.

Morrigan spoke again, "You broke nearly every bone in your body Aedan. I've done what I can, but as you know, healing is not my specialty."

Aedan closed his eyes and the world wheeled sickeningly around him as he recalled the fall from the cliff. He had let go of Damien and reached for the rock as he fell past. He clearly remembered the clash and scream of metal against the outcroppings and narrow ledges as he'd hit, bounced and scraped his way down. He remembered his arm breaking and one of his legs. He doubted he would ever forget the snap and the flare of pain as his bones had given way. After that was just the rush of air and the darkness. He opened his eyes with a short gasp.

Morrigan continued, "What possessed you to grab onto that Orlesian warden, Aedan? Truly you are the most curious man I have ever met."

Aedan cleared his throat and attempted to answer, but of course, all he could do was grunt as he wondered if there was any part of his body that did not hurt. He heard Morrigan move closer and she slipped her fingers beneath his head as she helped him take a drink. He chanced a look down at himself. He was tightly and rather neatly bandaged nearly from head to foot.

Clearing his throat again he asked, "Why did you save me Morrigan? I came here to kill you." He noticed he didn't sound very convincing, or threatening. His voice was soft, quiet.

She chuckled and answered, "As I have said, you are something of a hobby." Her voice was more serious when she continued, "Ferelden is not done with you yet, Warden. If you had not come after me, I might not have had to save you a third time. Shall we talk about why you came after me?"

Aedan turned his head a little so he could look at her as he spoke, "The child, Morrigan, I trusted you…but it was a mistake, all of it." As he spoke Aedan again felt that curious absence of the rage and fury he'd harbored for so long. Beside the continued emptiness he was just weary, as if tired of life itself. And now he was lying Maker knows where, broken, and in the company of a maleficar. It just didn't get any better than this. He sighed and cursed softly, then sighed again. A single small tear of defeat leaked from the corner of his eye and lacking the strength to wipe it away, he let it roll down his cheek.

Morrigan had her hand to her belly and she was caressing it. She had donned a loose robe and for that he was grateful, but it did little to hide the obvious swelling. He turned his eyes away and contemplated the stars before speaking again.

"The darkspawn are drawn to you, to the…child. We followed them here."

"I am not what draws them here, Aedan. If you will remember, dragons dwell within these mountains, perhaps one of these is calling to them." She paused and then added thoughtfully, "Or perhaps something else drives them. Someone does seek me and it is for that reason I must leave. I had hoped to give birth before I traveled, but it cannot be helped. That village is no longer the 'haven' it was." She chuckled softly at her words and sat back, her head disappearing from his view.

Aedan turned his head toward her again, "Damien, that was who sought you?"

"No, he was just another lovely surprise!" She answered.

Aedan shook his head and immediately regretted it. After the stars stopped spinning he said, "You would have me believe this is all coincidence?"

"You came here of your own volition, Aedan. You were not invited. Neither was your Orlesian friend. I would rather call it unfortunate timing."

Aedan remained silent and thoughtful. He had come here with such purpose, but had been thwarted at every turn. He thought about Morrigan's words. He longer felt the compulsion to kill her. He wasn't sure if it was his grave injuries or her words. She had always proved herself a trustworthy companion. She had no reason to lie to him now - he was hardly a threat, lying here broken as he was. Was it possible that he had simply strung together every unfortunate event of the past eight months and apportioned blame to himself? Was his guilt really that great? In the absence of his constant companions, rage and fury, Aedan felt he was thinking clearly for the first time in months.

He had always known he should have told Leliana about the ritual as soon as he'd had the opportunity. he could have saved himself, and her, much sorrow. Though a part of him would always feel responsible for the loss of Leliana, he recognised it was not truly because of Morrigan's ritual. He would never get over the loss of his wife, the love they shared, the child they had conceived, but he knew that his self destructive behavior was done with. He would honor her memory by freeing Ferelden from the grip of the darkspawn. He would be the man she had followed and believed in.

He accepted also that though saving Alistair's life, keeping him on the throne, was important he had saved his own life as well. He had not been willing to let go right then. It had been a selfish impulse, that of a boy perhaps, rather than a man. He really had done this for himself. But with all honestly, he could not imagine a man who when confronted with that choice, might have declined. Perhaps that's why most heroes only existed in tales. With the acceptance of his motivations his guilt finally began to dissipate somewhat. He was finally letting it go…

He tried to articulate some of his thoughts, saying, "I saved my own life with this bargain, Morrigan, nothing more. I had thought I did this with such noble intentions, but it has brought me nothing but grief."

"You are a good man, Aedan, was your life not worth saving? Would a selfish man care such for a baby he will never see? Would a selfish man choose to serve his country over his own wife and child?"

Aedan replied, his voice barely above a whisper, "But now she is gone."

Morrigan's voice was properly somber when she replied, "And for that I am truly sorry."

He glanced at her and saw that she was sorry, her eyes downcast and her hands clasped loosely in front of her robe.

She continued, "Leliana was a delight to us all, Aedan. It was not hard to see how happy she made you. You even became less guarded toward me. Without her influence I believe we may never have become…friends."

Aedan looked at Morrigan and said, "She was very fond of you, Morrigan. Do you remember the mirror I gave you? She found it in Orzimmar and remembered the story you had told. She bade me give it you though." His voice caught as he delved into his memories of Leliana, remembering her utter sweetness, her thoughtfulness, her mission to bring peace amongst the companions. He continued, "She wanted us to be better friends. She said we needed you…"

Morrigan was silent at that and her face was wistful, perhaps a little sad. Her eyes caught his and she abruptly schooled her features into a more reserved expression and said, "I think it is time for me to use my one healing spell on that other arm of yours. You can thank Wynne and her insistence that I learn one of her spells that I've made any progress beyond bandaging…"

She focused on his other arm then and Aedan grimaced and bit his lips against the sensation of bones knitting together beneath his skin. Just as he was about to yell with the agony of it, she was done.

She sat back and clasped her hands to her stomach, her face tightening. Then her face relaxed and she took a deep breath.

Concerned, Aedan asked, "Morrigan, are you well?"

She nodded, "He grows impatient is all. T'will not be long now."

Aedan flexed his other arm and, though it was stiff, it no longer pained him quite as much. He wondered just how many of his bones Morrigan had moved back together before he had awoken and shivered. He said, "I should thank you, Morrigan, I still do not understand why you would care so for me, put me back together like this…"

"Despite what you think, I am not heartless, Aedan. I care for you a great deal. I could have offered the ritual to Alistair, you know. I chose you because I wanted you to be the father of my child."

Aedan thought on that for a minute then said, "You do not risk him by healing me…I hope," then after a second added, "You say 'he' when you speak of the babe, you know it will be a boy?" He was pained and elated by the idea at the same time. He understood that this might now be his only child.

Morrigan nodded, "Oh, yes, I have known for a long time. We 'talk' after a fashion…"

Aedan asked quietly, wanting and yet not wanting to know, "Have you chosen a name for him?"

"Do you really want to know, Aedan? I will not go back on our agreement. Once I am done here," she swept a hand toward his legs, "I will be gone and you will not be following me."

Aedan dropped his elbows to his sides and used them to push himself up a little, sick of lying on his back. Morrigan leaned forward to assist and together they shuffled him backwards to lean against a rock so that he was reclined rather than flat. The movement hurt his legs terribly, but after the pain ebbed, he looked directly at the swell of Morrigan's stomach. Her hands rested there once again, protectively and possessively.

"Where will you go? Who is after you if it was not Damien?"

Her voice then dropped, her casual tone completely gone when she continued. "The one who seeks me is still on his way…I have only met him in the Fade. It is the most curious thing…a darkspawn who talks."

Aedan's brows rose in alarm, "…talks? As in…words?"

She raised a hand as if to sweep her fear away and replied, "Perhaps it is just a fancy of mine, dreams brought on by…" she indicated her stomach. But she looked worried. She continued, "Once he is born, I can teach him much, even as a babe. He will learn to shield his mind as I do. We will be safe."

She seemed convinced of this and Aedan nodded quietly. He did not know what to make of her words, her fears. He did not understand the Fade…he would leave it to her to interpret.

After a thoughtful silence during which they both contemplated the fire, Morrigan indicated it was time to try healing one of his legs. Before she began she apologised to him, saying, "This will hurt, Aedan, I will see you when you wake up." With a quick spell she put him to sleep first.

When he awoke the stars had dimmed and the air was cool and damp. The fire was low and Morrigan was curled on her side next to him. She opened her eyes when he moved and asked after his leg. He moved it and groaned. She said, "It may be a day or two before it feels properly mended."

He nodded, biting his lip against the deep ache. He then asked, "Morrigan, what became of Damien?"

She glanced up at him and studied his face a moment before answering, "The Orlesian? I could not save both of you, Aedan. I caught you before you hit the bottom…unfortunately not before you'd managed to hit every ledge and outcropping on the way. Damien was not so…lucky. I left him at the bottom of the cliff. I did cover his body…" She shrugged.

Aedan accepted her answer and looked down at his legs awhile. Morrigan had left them encased in the tightly wrapped linen, insisting it would help the healing process.

Morrigan sat up and smoothed her robe over herself and regarded him solemnly. She glanced toward the slowly lightening horizon and then back at his legs and said, "I'm going to heal your other leg now Aedan. You still have many injuries, but with your legs you will make it back to Haven."

Pointing toward a break in the distant trees that formed a corridor between the forest and the cliff, she said, "Follow the cliff face around for a day and you will come to the lake beneath the village."

He looked back toward the cliff, only just visible in the grey light. He could not see the waterfall and asked after it. She pointed in the opposite direction and said, "A few hours that way."

He turned back to look at her and saw her expression was somewhat pained. He asked, "Morrigan, what troubles you? Is it the babe, are you well?"

She shook her head and replied, "We are both well, Aedan. I'm going to put you to sleep again before I attempt to heal your other leg. When you awaken, I will be gone."

Aedan felt a twinge of regret at her words though he knew she had to go. He wasn't sure he would ever quite understand her motivations, but he couldn't help feeling the goodness in her. He had been afraid of Morrigan for so long simply because he did not comprehend her. He recognised that she perhaps warred with herself as much as he, but he did not pity her that. She was the stronger and he felt she better knew her own mind. He began to feel a sense of relief that he had not killed her and that he had not taken away the one thing in her life that seemed to bring her such joy. Having had it himself for a short time, it was a joy he understood, that which a child could bring, and though he envied her, he no longer begrudged her that pleasure.

He met her eyes and said, "Be well, Morrigan…and thank you."

She blinked and nodded, biting her lip. When her eyes opened again, they were moist and she blinked rapidly. She started to speak, stopped, and then said, "Cian. He will be called Cian."

Aedan drew in a breath and said the name softly to himself. When she raised her hands to begin casting her spells Aedan quickly said, "Wait!"

She stopped and glanced up, questioningly.

He reached behind his neck and pulled his amulet over his head. He held it out to her and said, "This is Reflection. It was given me by my father." He paused, running the leather cord through his fingers and then pressed on, "Will you take it for him…" He lowered his hand, studying the simple pendant, already feeling its absence. He said quietly, "He doesn't have to know…"

Morrigan's fingers reached forward and she touched the amulet. Then she gathered it up and held it in her closed fingers. She looked up at him and said, "He will know this gift is from his father. I will tell him, Aedan."

They stared at one another in silence a moment longer and then Aedan nodded. Morrigan raised her hands and he slept.


	32. Chapter 32

**Teardrops**

Morning found Leliana outside the Chantry again, gazing into the valley below. Alistair stepped to her side and leaned forward on the old wooden fence to take in the view. According to Leliana Aedan was down there and not in the forest above. It was a mystery to the wardens how he might have entered the valley as he'd last been seen near this building and beyond the Chantry there was only miles of forest that ran along this same cliff before leading up to the mountain and the temple where Andraste's Ashes remained.

Alistair trusted the amulet, however, and as they gazed out over the misted valley, he began to plot exactly how they would get down there. Just because Aedan was alive, didn't mean he was well – a thought that had surely occurred to Leliana as well, though neither of them had voiced it. He turned to look at Leliana. She seemed peaceful even though she must feel anything but.

"Come in and eat," he urged her. "We'll want to head out as soon as the others awaken."

She nodded and followed him back inside the Chantry where they found most of the wardens up and about, sorting their packs and donning their armour. Oghren would be staying in Haven to keep an eye the Orlesian wardens and in case Aedan made it back on his own. Alistair, Leliana and Zevran would join the rest of Ferelden's wardens in the search.

Alistair moved to Philippe's side and gazed at the map again. His eyes caught the lake that lay below the village and he said to Philippe, "Do you know if there is a way around the lake? Or perhaps a boat? We could enter the valley from that direction."

Philippe glanced at that point of the map and scratched his chin thoughtfully. He answered, "We'll check before heading into the forest again." He turned to the assembled wardens, "Is everyone ready?"

The bodies in the village were starting to give off a disgusting odor as the tainted flesh liquefied. They held their breath as one by one they edged past them and down to the dock. Oghren and his men would also start the monumental task of dealing with the carnage while they were away, allowing all the wardens to look for Aedan, Damien, and Morrigan. It was only assumed they were together. Alistair could only hope that finding one would hold the key to finding them all.

There was a small boat at the dock, perhaps large enough for three. Leliana shaded her eyes against the rising sun and gazed across the lake. It was wide and the boat was the only way to reach the other side. She turned back to look at Alistair, a pleading expression in her eyes and he nodded to her.

Alistair turned to Philippe and said, "I will take Zevran and Leliana with me across the lake."

"As you wish, Alistair" Philippe answered. He glanced back at the other wardens a moment, and then returned his gaze to the lake. He said, "I will take the rest of the wardens back into the forest as planned. We will follow the cliff, if we can, and see if there is not another way into the valley."

"A sound plan," Alistair agreed and clapped Philippe on the shoulder. "Maker watch over you."

Philippe nodded and tendered the familiar response as all bowed their heads a moment. Everyone was fully armoured and carried their packs. They would not be returning to Haven until answers were had, no matter how many days it took.

Alistair handed Leliana down into the boat, stepped in himself and turned to assist Zevran. Of course he needn't have bothered. The nimble elf stepped lightly past him and into the boat, sat next to Leliana and grinned as he said, "Have at those oars, Alistair!"

Alistair gave a mock grumble though he was grateful to Zevran for lightening the mood and set himself between the oars. As he relaxed into the rhythm of pull and draw Alistair couldn't help but think that under other circumstances this outing would have been pleasant. The sun had crept over the mountains finally and the lake sparkled beneath it. Though it was early summer, the day was cool and there was a light breeze. It was peaceful in the middle of the lake and Haven looked just a sleepy village from afar, not the derelict backdrop of bloodshed it had become.

Leliana finally broke the silence with a soft song. She had been holding her pendant between her clasped hands and her eyes had barely moved from the distant shore. When she began to sing quietly, Alistair felt a shiver raise the fine hairs along his arms. Zevran closed his amber eyes and leaned back and Alistair let the oars trail a while as he listened to her sing. As always, her voice was mellifluous, and though her song spoke of being reunited with a loved one, the tone was bittersweet. It gave Alistair the feeling she was singing of meeting her love beyond the veil of death. An outcome he hoped against. As her voice trailed away the companions remained silent until they made the far shore.

Alistair turned back to look across the lake. Haven was no longer visible behind the towering cliffs, but he could see a plume of smoke rising beyond the trees that clustered along the high ridge.

Zevran spoke quietly beside him, "Let us hope that is Oghren's way of cleaning up…"

Alistair nodded his agreement, he had felt no taint all morning. He could not decide if this was a blessing or a curse. Did Morrigan's absence account for the lack of darkspawn, or were more simply on their way, yet to arrive?

They turned and set off into the valley. The land this side of the lake was meadow and flat and stretched toward a line of distant trees that converged with the cliffs. The walking was easy and they reached the forest before stopping for lunch.

As they sat a moment to rest and eat, Alistair enquired, "Leliana, do you have any sense of us moving toward Aedan?"

She nodded quietly, the pedant had barely left her fingers all morning. A hopeful smile hovered at the corners of her mouth as she handed the amulet to him. Alistair felt for Aedan and his heart lifted. They were much closer.

The way was harder after lunch, the forest thickened and there appeared to be no clear path. Eventually the trees fell away from the solid wall of rock and a corridor opened up, wide enough for the three of them to walk abreast. In the distance they could just make out the glint of a waterfall and Alistair thought it would make a good spot to make camp. They would easily reach it before the sun set.

As they closed the distance, he heard an exclamation behind him and turned.

Zevran was shading his eyes and looking toward the waterfall and he said, "Maker's breath, is that smoke?"

Leliana broke into a run.

--=0=--

The sun was high in the sky when Aedan finally awoke. Though he was stiff and all of his bones seemed to ache, he felt whole. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and glanced around the camp. The fire was out but with the warmth of the day he hadn't missed it.

His armour was piled not far from the fire and Aedan couldn't help the shudder that rippled through his shoulders and down his back as he looked at it. Besides the crust of dried blood and gore it was bent, buckled and torn. He moved toward it and started pulling pieces out of the pile one by one, some of them almost unrecognizable. He doubted he would ever be able to wear it again. This saddened him inexplicably and he tossed aside the gauntlet he was holding and turned away from the wreckage.

His weapons seemed to have fared little better, but they were resting against a small sack and he quickly pushed them aside as he fumbled in the sack for food. He was starving. He had lost count of the days it had been since he'd had a proper meal and his body cried out for nourishment. Morrigan had left him well supplied and as he stuffed bread into his mouth he thanked the Maker she was accomplished at providing for herself so far from civilization.

With his hunger temporarily sated, Aedan turned his attention upon his weapons. He had been carrying the same sword he'd taken into the siege of Denerim, Asturian's Might, and once he had wiped it down with the linen strips he tore from his legs, he saw that despite the nicks and scars along the blade it was sound. The blade of his dagger was bent.

As he removed the rest of his bandages, Aedan couldn't help the soft, "Holy Maker…" that slipped from between his lips. He had never seen so many bruises in all his life. How was he even alive? He poked gingerly at his ribs and drew a sharp breath as he touched on a few that were not yet set. His legs were mottled and his arms bore deep gouges where armour plates had ground against his skin. The sight was enough to make him lightheaded.

Morrigan had left his clothing folded neatly to one side of the sack and as he pulled on his shirt and pants he couldn't help smiling at her practical nature. The clothing was mended! But she'd had no means to deal with the stains and when Aedan looked down at himself again, the smile turned into a laugh. He could imagine Alistair's reaction to this particular outfit. The king was always teasing him about his wrinkled and threadbare attire, but this ensemble was something even Aedan recognised as…bad. It would have to serve until he got back to Haven.

Aedan glanced around the wide clearing then and wondered which route she had taken. He touched his fingers to his chest for a moment, to where Reflection would have lain had he been wearing it, and he closed his eyes. He sent a prayer after the mage. He knew Morrigan held no belief in the Maker, but that did not mean he could not ask for her safety.

He looked off in the direction where Damien laid buried beneath a cairn of rock and briefly pondered the Orlesian warden. After a moment's hesitation he sent a prayer in that direction also.

With a final glance at his ruined armour, Aedan secured his weapons to his belt, shouldered the small sack and started towards the cliffs. He would not make Haven today, he had slept too late. But he intended to walk until fatigued and try again the following day.

He was not surprised to find he tired quickly. He reached the trees and slipped past them into the gap along the towering rock wall of the cliff. The way was relatively easy and keeping his eyes down he was able to pick his way amongst the loose gravel and smooth stone. He missed his boots. His armoured boots were ruined and his leather boots lay beside his pack somewhere in Haven he supposed.

After stubbing his toe for what might have been the seventh time, Aedan looked up and caught the glint of water ahead. There was a narrow waterfall cascading over the cliff and it formed into a deep pool at the base. A creek ran away from the pool into the trees. This was where he would make camp, he decided, and quickened his pace.

Aedan dropped his pack and knelt before the pool to wash his face and was momentarily stunned by his reflection. He touched his fingers to his cheeks, feeling the long scratches and the one deep furrow across his forehead. His black hair was longer than he was used to, falling across his brow and tufted out over his ears. If not for the clear pale blue of his eyes, he might not have recognised himself. He thrust his hands into the water, stirring away the reflection and splashed his face, working his fingers over the dried blood and wincing as the water cleaned his cuts and scrapes.

Despite the chill of the late afternoon he shed his clothes then and plunged into the pool, scrubbing at himself, then at the clothes with an obsessive fervor. He opened many of his wounds again, but the crisp coolness of the water felt wonderful and he simply floated on his back for a while afterwards.

He lit a fire then and shrugged into his damp clothing and sat as close to the flames as he dared, staring into the yellow flicker and just letting his mind wander. He knew that Ferelden's problems were far from solved, the darkspawn threat still loomed, but he couldn't help the sense of peace he felt. He was alive, he was whole and he had a purpose.

A flash caught his eyes and he looked up. Three figures were running toward him from across the stream and one of them was wearing…golden armour! Aedan stood up and squinted into the setting sun. The last rays glanced off the approaching group, casting their faces into shadow, but he could make out the reddish gold of Alistair's hair above his distinctive armour. His companions were both of a more slight build and one had yellow hair, the other red.

With a wordless cry and pounding heart Aedan ran to the stream and waded through, heedless of the stones that caught his bare feet and toes. He tripped and splashed down to his hands and knees before gaining the opposite bank and then drew himself upright again. She was standing there right before him. He felt his chest would explode with the joy of it and his head spun crazily. He did not care if this was the Fade, or a trick of his imagination, or if he was about to sweep into his arms someone other than his love.

"Leli," it didn't sound like his voice as he leaned forward and wrapped his arms about her, drawing her close. He whispered her name over and again into her hair, his breath catching when his broken ribs made their presence felt. He didn't let go even then.

She lifted her face towards him and as he kissed her the world ceased to exist around him. He could taste the salt of their tears and the sweetness that he knew only as Leliana. If this was indeed a dream, then here he was content to stay.

Eventually the world intruded once again. His legs ached and trembled and someone was clearing their throat. His ribs complained and the chill of early evening seeped through his wet clothes. He drew back and just gazed into her eyes, and then hugged her all over again. He did not want to let her go…ever.

Over the top of her head he saw Alistair and Zevran standing a polite distance behind them. His eyes met Alistair's and though he did not think it was possible to feel more complete than he did at that moment, he did. His dearest friend was standing here in the middle of nowhere and had delivered to him a gift beyond measure.

Leliana stepped back then and after dropping another kiss to her cheek he stepped toward Alistair. He stopped in front of him and dropped his head. He didn't know what to say. 'Thank you' felt inadequate and 'Sorry' would never make up for the manner in which they had parted. Alistair took the matter out of his hands by stepping forward, arms raised, and pulling him into a hug. Aedan said his words then and he felt Alistair nod mutely.

After he was released he turned toward Zevran and swept him into a hug also. He whispered more thanks and Zevran laughed and clasped him fondly, patting his back before disentangling himself and making a show of brushing off his leathers.

Aedan turned back to Leliana and drew her against himself again, feeling the need to make sure she was real and still there and alive. He kissed her over and over, touching his lips to her brow, her cheeks and her mouth and then simply the top of her head as she rested her cheek to his chest. Finally he took Leliana's hand and led them back across the stream, finding the dry stones to cross this time. The companions all set down their packs around his fire and loosened their armour and weapons.

It was Zevran who finally asked, "So tell us, Aedan, how is it you are in this valley?"

Aedan winced as he answered, "Well, Zev, there's a long answer to that and a short answer."

Zevran raised a brow and Aedan tried the short version, "I fell off a cliff?"

Leliana and Alistair gasped, but Zevran shared a chuckle with him before answering, "So that is why you look as if you have been dragged through a bush backwards."

Aedan looked down at his clothes which his washing and subsequent 'swim' had done little to improve. At the mournful expression on his face the others laughed.

He felt Leliana's fingers exploring the myriad cuts and scratches over his face and turned to look at her, saying softly, "I've seen better days haven't I?"

"You were always more than just a pretty face, my love," she said as she smiled and kissed his forehead and cheek and was moving toward his mouth when Alistair said clearly behind them, "Before you two move on to the mushy bits, perhaps we could hear the long version?"

Over a welcome meal Aedan filled them in on his chase through the forest and his plunge over the cliff with Damien. They were all seated about the fire and the warmth and a full belly were combining with his recent healing to make him sleepy. But he wanted to finish his story. He wanted to tell them about Morrigan. He wanted no more secrets between himself and those he held dear.

They all looked properly disturbed when he described Morrigan's fear of a darkspawn that talked to her in the Fade, and he thought perhaps there was a tinge of regret in Alistair's eyes as he described how he'd let Morrigan walk away for a second time. A glance at Leliana showed she clearly understood his motivations, however, and he tightened his arm about her shoulders and pulled her close.

Zevran commented, "It seems that this is but another chapter in our adventures then, my friends."

All of them nodded their agreement and one by one they drifted apart from the fire to seek their beds. The night was clear and the stars were bright overhead and none of them had felt the need for tents. All were content to sleep beneath the open sky. Alistair and Zevran had decided to split the watch between them, allowing Aedan the chance to catch up with Leliana.

"See if you can get some sleep you two," said Alistair with a smile as he bid them goodnight and moved away to sit his watch.

Aedan slipped into Leliana's bedroll with her and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her tenderly and though his hands caressed her, his body refused to cooperate with his desire. His bones ached, his ribs hurt and his collection of bruises and scrapes were making themselves felt. He settled his hand across her abdomen instead, feeling the slight swell of their child, and she interlaced her fingers with his. They both gazed down at their entwined fingers and he whispered, "I love you, Leliana."

He wanted to say more, but such contentment cannot be expressed in words. Instead he said, "Tell me a story, Leli."

Leliana replied softly, "Of course, my love. I've been working on a new one for our child. It's called 'The Hero of Ferelden'."

But he heard only the first few minutes as the sweet and familiar sound of her voice lulled him into a deep and dreamless sleep.

The End.

* * *

_I do have an epilogue and a couple of short stories planned using these characters, but decided to end the main story here. It felt right. I hope that after I play _Awakenings _I'll be inspired to write another adventure featuring Aedan and his companions._

_Thanks to everyone who made it this far and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it._


	33. Chapter 33

_This chapter is something of an epilogue to The Hero of Ferelden. I'll publish further stories about these characters separately after this. _

* * *

**Brothers**

Aedan dreamed:

He was curled into a mossy hollow formed by the roots of a giant tree. Shafts of afternoon sunlight poked through the interlaced branches and roots above his head crisscrossing in patterns of light and shadow all around him. It was a warm space and the 'ceiling' was high enough that he felt he could stand, if he wanted to. He did not.

He was weak limbed and covered with sweat and a terrible pain radiated outwards from the small of his back down through his thighs. He briefly wondered if he'd broken his legs again and tried to remember where he was. The pain receded and as he drew in deep breaths he felt as if he were bracing for another wave of it. Why was he expecting more pain? Where were his companions?

He felt the loneliness then. He had no companions and he had no one to help him in this task. He was alone in this forest. His feeling of sadness was torn away by the next wave of pain and he cried out with it. It was not his voice. The hand that grasped the exposed and gnarled tree roots to the side of the hollow was small, delicate. It was Morrigan's hand.

A sense of panic quickly began to overwhelm the loneliness and the rising wave of pain. Maker's breath, was she ill? Aedan reached blindly toward her awareness, wanting to know, wanting to comfort. He could feel the clenching of her jaw then and she spoke.

"Aedan," she took in a short breath and continued, "You are here, lend me your strength." He did not quite understand what she wanted, but he could actually feel her welcome. He was more used to her anger and at his intrusion and had prepared to be flung away as she recognised his presence. He had no idea how to do what she wanted, so he simply remained still.

"T'is nearly done," Morrigan murmured quietly and he could feel a calmness wash through her, a weariness begin to seep into her body. The pain came again, dizzying in its intensity. But this time it was followed by a sense of release and relief.

As Morrigan welcomed her child into the world Aedan could feel himself slipping away. He tried to see the babe but his vision was clouded by Morrigan's tears and he only received the vague impression of a face surrounded by thick, dark hair. The newborn opened his eyes and they were of the clearest pale blue. Morrigan's love for her son was immeasurable and he had the sense of intruding on an intensely private moment and so willfully relinquished his hold.

Aedan awakened to a darkened room and was momentarily disoriented. He was stirred by the emotion of his dream and he clearly remembered every detail of it as if he'd been there in that verdant hollow with Morrigan.

Closing his eyes again, Aedan rubbed at the scar upon his forehead. Though Taren had been able to finish healing his injuries when the companions had returned to Haven, the deep furrow across his brow had already closed and the skin had knit unevenly. There was little the mage had been able to do about the scar, except to suggest it would fade somewhat with time. Aedan had shrugged softly and said, "It is no bother, Taren, if that is the worst of it, I have done well. Thank you."

Leliana had looked at his new scar thoughtfully, and after a moment she had added her agreement, "We all bear the scars of our journey, some are just more visible than others."

Taking his fingers from the scar now, Aedan opened his eyes again and glanced around. He was at Gwaren. He was reclined in a stiff backed chair and the desk in front of him was littered with documents and letters. He was in the study and the large room was lit only by the late afternoon sunlight that filtered through the windows at his back. He had been asleep for some time. Another look at the paperwork arrayed before him produced a chuckle. Inventory lists and merchant accounts, no wonder he'd taken a nap.

He and Leliana had arrived in Gwaren nearly two weeks previously. The companions had all gone their separate ways from Haven.

Philippe had taken it upon himself to escort the Orlesian wardens back to Orlais. Aedan had offered to travel with his second, but Philippe raised a hand and said, "Are you so eager to leave the side of your wife?"

Aedan had smiled fondly at the older warden and said, "Of course not, Philippe, but I know my duty to the Grey Wardens."

Philippe had answered, "Then do it here… I will come back before the darkspawn raise their ugly heads once again. You may count on that, Commander."

"I will." Aedan had replied and grasped Philippe's shoulder. "Thank you, Philippe. I look forward to your return."

Zevran had traveled with the remainder of the Ferelden wardens to Amaranthine. Aedan planned to join them there as soon as he had settled affairs in his new home. He had thanked his elven friend profusely for everything, but most sincerely for his continued friendship.

"If the road you traveled were not so exciting, I might have sought adventure elsewhere, my friend," Zevran had replied. But his eyes were resting casually upon Kayley, who had been waiting with the rest of the wardens. Aedan had followed his gaze and smiled.

"Maker watch over you, Zev. I will see you in Amaranthine." Aedan had said and turned to bid farewell to the rest of the wardens.

Aedan and Leliana had parted company with Alistair and Oghren on the Western Highway. Alistair had continued on to Denerim, taking his dwarven commander and his army with him, while Aedan had turned south, toward Gwaren.

Though Aedan would see Alistair as he passed through Denerim on the way to Amaranthine he missed his friend already. Their separate duties would likely keep them apart more in the future, particularly with the resurgence of darkspawn. Alistair had talked briefly of his plans their last night at camp.

Aedan had been amused and mildly surprised when Alistair had dropped down beside him, warmed his hands before the fire and said, "Would you mind if I asked you to relinquish one of your many, many titles?"

Aedan had carefully responded, "So long as you don't intend to replace it with another, certainly. Which one do you want?"

Alistair had cocked an eyebrow at him and said, "Oh, I have learned not to ask before giving you anything, but no, I don't intend to replace this one…not right away that is." The King had laughed at the wary expression on his face then and patted his shoulder reassuringly, "I jest, Aedan!"

With a glance over at Aedan's tent, in which Leliana was sleeping, Alistair had continued with his request, "I'd like to appoint your wife as my Chancellor."

Aedan had raised his brows and answered, "Have you spoken with Leliana about this?"

"No…I wanted to ask your opinion first." Alistair had replied.

Aedan had considered the flames thoughtfully. He liked the idea. Leliana had a knack for politics and with her phenomenal memory and ability to distill fact from fiction she'd be an asset to Alistair, and to Ferelden. He also knew that Leliana would thrive in Denerim, which was not too distant from Amaranthine, and he would see more of his wife if she were in the capital rather than Gwaren. The role would also likely include the opportunity to travel with the King and Aedan knew that would appeal to her wanderlust. And she would be safe with Alistair.

Alistair had interrupted his train of thought by continuing, "This is no reflection upon the work you and I have done together…"

Aedan had raised a hand and waved it briefly at his friend, "I know, but I cannot be Warden Commander and Chancellor, not while the darkspawn threat still looms."

Alistair had been relieved at his response. Aedan then answered his original question, "I like idea, but my reasons are mostly selfish." He chuckled and Alistair joined him, perhaps those reasons were not so hard to discern.

The next morning Alistair had asked Leliana if she would consider the appointment. She had glanced at Aedan, clearly suspecting that her king and her husband were conspiring to keep her in the city and away from the darkspawn, but after Alistair had enumerated the number of ways in which her skills would be service, she had relented and begun to look excited by the prospect.

His reverie was interrupted by a soft knock at the door and Aedan called out for his visitor to enter. It was the house steward, Evers. Aedan glanced down at the paperwork spread before him and started gathering it up, no doubt the kitchen wanted their accounts back and as far as he could tell Evers was running the estate with meticulous attention to detail. It wasn't like he had the time to run it himself, but Aedan had wanted to give the impression that he was concerned for the livelihood of those given into his care and he could tell his interest was appreciated. Thank the Maker he had not been caught napping on the job.

After the steward had left, Aedan rubbed at his forehead, fingers unconsciously feeling for the scar, and thought again of his dream. Morrigan had given birth to her child. Though he knew it was his son, Aedan preferred to think of the babe as hers. It made it easier for him to separate himself from the child he would never see. He had mixed feelings about being 'present' for the birth. He'd had a glimpse of Morrigan's overwhelming love for the child and hoped that his presence had provided a small measure of comfort to her, the loneliness he'd sensed saddened him. But Aedan could not entirely discount the possibility that she had drawn him to her side at that precise moment and that she had sought his company and strength at a vulnerable time. This disturbed him a little.

Aedan wanted to talk to Leliana about it and he left the study in search of her. She wasn't far away. In fact she was right next door in the library playing a game with Luke. Aedan paused in the doorway and regarded his new family fondly.

Luke had been overjoyed to see him when they had arrived at Gwaren. The boy had looked rested and well cared for and in that respect Aedan would be forever grateful to Evers. The steward was a family man and had readily welcomed another child into his care.

Aedan smiled as he remembered the enraptured expression on the boy's face when he had introduced Leliana. He never forgot how lovely his wife was but always enjoyed another's appreciation of her beauty.

Leliana had welcomed the boy to their little family and fussed over him with maternal delight. Aedan had had more than one chuckle over the past two weeks as he'd seen Luke submit to her ministrations regarding his hair and his clothing. Better him than me, he thought. But the fact that Luke had come to adore Leliana was obvious in every respect. When she entertained them with her stories and songs he hung from her every word an always begged for more.

They both looked up at the same time and Aedan briefly forgot his early disturbed feelings as he regarded their faces. He was a lucky, lucky man.

"Who is winning?" He asked as he stepped into the room. He walked over to Leliana's chair and stooped forward to drop a kiss onto the top of her head.

Luke grumbled softly and Aedan inferred this meant he was not winning. He grinned at the boy and said, "She's not just a pretty face, you know."

Leliana asked, "What have you been up to, my love?"

Aedan grinned sheepishly, "Napping…"

Leliana did not miss the shadow in his eyes, however, and she asked quietly, "Did you dream?"

Aedan nodded softly and they regarded one another solemnly for a moment. Aedan then glanced over at Luke and asked, "Luke, would you mind excusing Leliana and me for a while? I promise you can have her back this evening," he added with a warm smile.

After the boy had left, Aedan sat down on a couch and Leliana moved to join him, curling her legs up beneath herself and leaning against his side. He slipped an arm about her shoulders and just held her for a few minutes. It never felt any easier discussing Morrigan with her, but he had promised himself that there would be no more secrets between them.

Before he could begin, however, Leliana said quietly, "Will you take Luke to Amaranthine with you, or leave him here with Evers?" Leliana would be traveling with him as far as Denerim where she would assume her role as Chancellor. They would be leaving in a few days. Though this time at Gwaren had been quiet and easy and they'd both needed the respite, it was time to return to their duties.

Aedan had thought about Luke and though he knew the boy would not like his decision, at the tender age of fourteen he would have to abide by it until he reached his majority. He said, "He will stay here with Evers. I think Gwaren is a more suitable environment than Amaranthine. He is still obsessed with the idea of becoming a Grey Warden." Aedan sighed softly before continuing, "I can't help but hope that by the time he is old enough, we won't need him…"

Leliana nodded her assent and said, "He can visit with us, and we with him." She put a hand to her rounded stomach and added softly, "and after the baby is born, I will probably be here at Gwaren for a while."

Aedan slipped his hand over hers and kissed her cheek before saying, "Thank you for accepting him Leli, I really had no idea what to do with him, but he'd lost everything and I just wanted to make it right for him." He stopped, unable to explain further. Though he had hardly been thinking straight when the wardens had passed through Lothering, sending Luke to Gwaren may have been one of his more sane decisions, or so he liked to believe.

Leliana reached down to pat his hand and said, "Tell me about your dream."

Aedan took a deep breath and started with, "I was with Morrigan as she gave birth to her child." He could feel Leliana stiffen slightly beneath his arm and he closed his eyes. A sadness welled within him that he would have to tell his wife news such as this, but he stuck to his convictions and continued, "I think she summoned me to herself…I don't think she wanted to be alone."

Leliana turned slightly within the circle of his arm and he saw his sadness reflected upon her face. She said quietly, "Oh, Aedan, I don't know who to feel more sad for – myself, you or Morrigan." She bit her lip and added, "Was she, were they well?"

Aedan hugged her closer. It was so typical of Leliana to consider the feelings of others. He said, "Yes."

Leliana nodded thoughtfully and said, "Then we must be happy for them. Now that she has her son, perhaps your dreams will come to an end…"

Aedan sighed softly. He'd had the very same thought, "I hope so, Leli, I really do. I only want to be here with you."

She smiled at him, "I've never doubted that, my love." A thoughtful expression crossed her face and she said, "Did I ever tell you I found the meaning behind the name she had chosen?"

Aedan had told only Leliana the name and as he said it now, he felt a slight shiver, "Cian?"

Leliana nodded, "It means 'old one'."

Aedan raised his brows, "Fitting, but I'd rather talk about what we'll name this one."

He tightened his fingers over hers and she looked down at their hands and smiled before replying, "The possibilities are endless, Aedan. We may have to have to have more than one so I can use all the names I have chosen."

Aedan laughed and hugged her closer again. She looked up and he leaned in to kiss her lips before murmuring softly, "Your wish is my desire."

* * *

A whisper of air to his left was Aedan's only warning of Alistair's next strike. Instinctively he raised his arm, blade turned down, to block, but his attention had faltered and he didn't raise his arm high enough. There was a bright light, a thud and he was on his back, blinking up into Alistair's anxious face.

"You didn't block!" Alistair's voice was laced with concern. "Thank the Maker I pulled my strike…"

Aedan blinked a few more times and said, "I did block…" he shook his head to clear it, wincing at the sharp pain above his ear. He grasped Alistair's offered hand and hauled himself to his feet.

"You're bleeding…here" Alistair handed him a rag and Aedan blotted the trickle of blood away from his hairline as they two men walked away from the practice field and sat on a wooden bench that had been set in the shade of a large tree.

Aedan pocketed the rag and looked back toward the stone wall of house, his eyes resting on one window in particular. "This was a bad idea. I should go back in there."

Alistair patted his shoulder and said, "Taren said it could be hours yet…"

Aedan ground his teeth, "Is it supposed to take this long?"

Leliana had been sequestered away with the midwife and Taren for seven hours now and his nerves were frayed. His memory of Morrigan's experience of childbirth fourth months previously was somewhat hazy, but he was sure she hadn't been in that hollow for seven hours…or had she? He'd briefly described the experience to Alistair earlier in the day and the king's response had been, "Creepy."

Aedan stood up too quickly and his head spun. Shaking it out, he strode toward the house, calling over his shoulder, "I'm going in there!"

Alistair caught up to him and laid a hand on his arm, "I would advise against it, Aedan. Many babies were born while I lived at Redcliffe and there was always a lot of screaming and yelling and blood…" he left off there and shuddered.

"Blood?" Aedan's eyebrows rose in alarm, no one had said anything about blood. He shook off Alistair's hand and turned to toward the house again only to collide with Philippe.

The senior warden put a hand to each of Aedan's shoulders and steadied him before saying in a calm and collected tone, "Don't listen to Alistair, Commander, he knows not enough and too much at the same time."

Alistair made an indignant noise, followed by a, "Hey…" but Aedan saw the smile pass between the two men and he tried to relax.

"Philippe, you have news?" The older warden, a four time veteran of this particular campaign, had been trying to keep him calm all day. It had been at his suggestion that Aedan had invited Alistair to spar outside in an attempt to divert his thoughts for a while.

"Taren says it is time!" Philippe said, his eyes sparkling with merriment and anticipation.

Pausing briefly to wash their hands and faces, Aedan and Alistair followed Philippe into the house.

As they approached the room Aedan fought excitement, nausea, dizziness and worry. The hallway was quiet and when they reached the door, he hesitated. There was no sound! It was too quiet within. Alistair had said something about yelling…

The door opened and Taren stepped outside, pulling the door nearly closed behind him. When Aedan saw that he was smiling he nearly hugged the mage out of joy, he wouldn't be smiling if there was screaming and blood…Taren clapped his shoulder and said, "Go on in."

Without a backward glance at the three men behind him, Aedan stepped into the room and closed the door. He quickly moved toward the bed where Leliana was propped up on a multitude of pillows. She was a little pale and her eyes were shadowed, but her expression was peaceful. She was holding a swaddled bundle close to her breast and when she looked up at him she smiled.

Aedan sat down carefully and just gazed into her beautiful eyes, he was so relieved to see her looking well that he was momentarily speechless. He lifted a hand to her face, caressing her cheek softly, before asking, "Are you well?"

"I am, my love. Would you like to meet your son?"

Aedan's heart filled with wonder and joy at her words. Their child was a boy. He'd not really harboured a preference, but couldn't help the excitement he felt as he imagined all the things he could teach his son.

He leaned forward and she turned the babe in her arms, reaching up to loosen the light blanket tucked about his head. A shock of thick dark hair was revealed and when his son opened his eyes, Aedan fell instantly in love. They were of the darkest blue and they simply gazed at one another for a long while.

Tearing his gaze away, he finally looked back to Leliana who was regarding the pair of them with amusement and fondness. "What will you name him, Leli?" he asked.

"Riordan," she said softly. She resettled the babe at her breast and after snuggling the light blanket back over his hair, she looked again at Aedan and added, "Among other things, it means 'poet'."

Aedan smiled, it was a good name in many respects and he told her so, "A perfect name. Tell me, was it truly hard, will you ever want to do this again?" He added in a teasing tone, "I know you have many more names picked out."

She laughed and said, "Maybe one more. I do have the perfect name for his sister, but perhaps we'll just enjoy little Riordan for while?"

Aedan leaned forward to drop a delicate kiss upon the baby's brow, then turned his face upwards to kiss his beloved and said, "Of course."


End file.
